Текст книги "Love Me"

Автор книги: Jillian Dodd

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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 24 страниц)

Sunday, October 23rd

A target date.

7:30am

Annie barges into our room, deftly leaps over the still-sleeping girls, and jumps on my bed. “I need to talk to you.”

“You’re really nervous about your parent’s party today, aren’t you?”

“I was, but now I’m kind of freaking out about something else.”

“What?”

“We set a target date.”

“A target date?”

“The date we’re going to have sex.”

“Oh.”

“Oh, gosh. That doesn’t sound very romantic, does it?”

“No, it doesn’t. Did he say that?”

“No! I just mean we decided the day that we’re going to do it. It’ll be after Winter Formal. We’ll be all dressed up. We’ll dance all night. Go to a hotel.”

“When is Winter Formal?”

“It’s in December.”

“So are you freaking out because that’s too soon?”

She clasps her hands together and confesses, “Fine. Last night, we almost did it. Like it was right there. He had a condom. I told him I wanted to.” She unclasps her hands and covers her face. “He said no!”

“He did?”

“Yes. And I started crying. Like, I bawled.”

“What did he do?”

“He got dressed, said he was sorry, gave me an awkward hug, and left. It was so embarrassing. And now I’m supposed to take him home with me!?”

“Has he texted you or anything?”

“No!” She starts crying. “We talk about our future all the time. We’ve named our children. Decided on our careers. Planned out college.”

“What was the situation?”

“What do you mean? We were in my room, basically naked. I still can’t believe I’ve even let him see me naked. Well, in-the-dark naked.”

“Do you think that’s why he said no?”

“Because the lights weren’t on?”

“No, silly. You’ve been telling him that you want to wait. Maybe he wanted to mess around but not do it. Maybe the fact that you wanted to do it surprised him and he was afraid you’d regret it.”

“It was that damn Gods of Olympus costume. He looked so hot all day.”

Her phone buzzes in her hand. She drops it on the bed and closes her eyes. “You look.”

I read his text to her.

Ace<3MySexyBaby:  I’m sorry I made you cry last night. I wanted to. God, I wanted to. But it will be your first time. I want it to be special not just some dorm thing. That’s why I thought we should at least wait until Winter Formal. Are you mad at me? Do you still want me to go today?

She cries harder now. I’m pretty sure they are tears of relief.

“You’re really lucky he cares so much about you, Annie. Don’t be mad at him.”

Her hands shake. “Type for me.”

I take the phone out of her hands. “What do you want to say?”

“Say, I want you to go today more than anything.”

Ace<3MySexyBaby:  I can’t wait to meet your family. And I’m glad we haven’t yet. I want to be able to look your dad in the eye.

Annie smiles and holds the phone to her chest. “I’m so in love with him.”

I give her a hug. “And I’m so happy for you.”

“You’re not trying to talk me out of it.”

“Annie, that decision is so personal. You have to go with what you know. What you feel. I can tell that you know it’s right.”

“It is. It just is. Okay, so I need to go get ready. We’re supposed to leave in like an hour.”

“Have fun today. And don’t worry. Your parents will love him.”

She bounds quietly out of the room.

I check my own phone, smiling when I see a late night text from Aiden.

Hottie God:  Le coeur a ses raisons que la raison ne connaît point.

Aww, how cute is that? It’s the quote he said last night, only in French. I want to hear him say it to me. So I figure, what the heck. I’ll call him.

He answers with, “Boots, you’re up early.” His voice is deep and gravely. I think I woke him up.

“Say it to me.”

“Say what?”

“The quote in French. The text you sent me last night.”

“You do realize I cut and pasted it from the internet?”

“Just try, please?”

“Les co-oer a sesh raisins cue la raisins ne con not point.”

It’s so cute. Having Aiden butcher the French language is seriously the most adorable thing.

“That was bad, wasn’t it?” he says. “You say it.”

“Le coeur a ses raisons que la raison ne connaît point.”

“It sounds prettier when you say it. I guess that’s not that much of a surprise, since you’re a lot prettier than me.”

I blush. Sitting in my bed, all by myself, I blush.

I can barely talk, I’m smiling so big. “You’re going to learn to speak it pretty too. I love when you speak French to me. It’s a sexy language.”

“Just another motivation for me to learn. I had fun yesterday. Not so much at the party, but . . .”

“Yeah, me either. Okay, so I have to get to rehearsal.”

“And I have to get back to sleep. See you later, Boots.”

Dawson:  So what happened last night after I left? Were you with Aiden? I hate this.

Me:  I dealt with the girls. And I hate it too. I was happy with you. But then . . . 

Dawson:  I fucked it all up.

Me:  Kinda, yeah . . . 

Dawson:  So are we still gonna, um, just kiss?

Me:  Do you still want to?

Dawson:  You know the answer to that.

Me:  You seemed mad at me last night.

Dawson:  Seeing Aiden almost kiss you pissed me off. But I do appreciate you taking care of Braxton, even though I didn’t really act like it. Wanna come over? We can have breakfast in bed.

Me:  Do you have food in your bed?

Dawson:  No.

Me:  I didn’t think so. I have rehearsal then I’m meeting your brothers and Dallas for coffee.

Dawson:  Can I come too?

Me:  Sure.

Step up my game.

11:30am

After practice, I head over to the boys’ dorm. The second I walk in, Dawson scoops me up and pulls me onto the bed with him. But Dallas sits in front of the bed, like usual, so I massage his shoulders while we talk.

Dawson turns to Braxton, who is looking miserable, and says loudly. “Braxton, little bro! How you feeling this morning?!”

“Horrible, thanks.”

“So did you enjoy your first Eastbrooke party, or what?”

Braxton shakes his head. “No. Miss Bossy Pants wouldn’t let me hook up with anyone. It was lame.”

I raise my eyebrows at him. “Then I guess you . . .”

“But super fun,” he interrupts me. “Except for the whole puking incident.”

“Thank god Jake was there.”

“Yeah, what’s up with you and Jake. You fucking him too?”

“Braxton! No, I’m not. He’s my friend.”

“Looked like more than that to me. Looks like you have some competition, bro. First Aiden made her a sunset. Then Jake went all knight in shining armor. You’re gonna have to step up your game.”

“How do you even know that?”

“You told Pressley. She told me.”

“A sunset?” Riley asks.

“It was a drawing on the wall.”

“Guess I do need to step up my game,” Dawson says.

“Why? You pretty much told me the other night that we’re just friends with benefits.”

“You know we’re more than that.” He moves to a sitting position on the bed and puts his hands on my shoulders. “You always massage everyone else. Do you want me to massage you?”

“You know what I really want? I want the school to install a bathtub in my room. Do you know how much I miss taking baths? I had a huge tub at home and all sorts of different bubble baths and oils. I miss that so much.”

“Yeah, sometimes you have to lose something to realize how important it is,” Dawson says, getting off the bed and pulling me with him. “Come with me.”

Shit. He’s going to take me to his room. I look to Riley and Dallas, hoping they will say something, like I can’t leave, but they both grin at me.

They are so unhelpful. “See if I ever rub your backs again,” I tell them as Dawson drags me out of the room.

Riley says, “See ya, baby.”

I try to think of another reason why I can’t go to his room. “I, er, I have to go say goodbye to my student and then work on the Greek weekend clean up.”

“When?”

I glance at my phone. “Five minutes.”

“I’ll take that.”

He pulls me toward his room. I don’t know what to do. I’m not a very good dieter. I have no will power.

When we get in his room, he points to his bed and says, “Sit.”

“I’m not a dog, Dawson.”

He tackles me. “Fine, you can lie down, then.”

Shit.

“Dawson, I can’t. Not right now.”

“I want to talk to you.”

“About what?”

“Last night sucked for me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know you think he’s wooing you, but you know his player past. Guys do that stuff to get in a girl’s pants.”

“I gotta go, Dawson.”

Blindfolded.

4:30pm

The prospective students have been picked up. The Greek weekend has been cleaned up. Now, I’m on my way to a mandatory dance meeting. Something about a big school rivalry game that’s coming up.

Then I’m supposed to do dinner and tutoring with Aiden.

But I’ve been worrying all day about what Dawson said. Especially after seeing Chelsea’s body language last night. Did he tell her the things he’s been telling me? Is that why she was upset?

I walk into the field house and head toward the dance room.

“Keatie,” I hear.

I turn around and see Dawson peeking around a corner.

“Hey.”

He stalks up to me and grabs my hand. “I’m kidnapping you.”

“Dawson, I have to go to this meeting, or I’ll get a demerit.”

“Have you gotten any demerits yet?”

“Uh, no.”

“Then you have a few to spare. Come on, we’re going out the back.”

He pulls me down the hall, around the weight room, drags me into the boys locker room, and out the side door.

“Where are we going?”

“I’m not telling.”

I pull back on his strong hand.

“Fine. Maybe I just decided I’m not giving up without a fight.

He picks me up, throws me over his shoulder, and runs with me across the football field and out to the parking lot.

He leans me up against his car, says, “Mhmmm, this feels familiar,” pulls me in tight, and kisses me deeply.

While he signs us out, I hit the right buttons on my phone so no one will think I actually was kidnapped.

After driving off campus, he pulls over, grabs a blindfold out of his pocket, and wraps it over my eyes.

“Dawson, what are you doing?”

“If I tell you, I’ll have to kill you.”

“Very funny.”

“Well, maybe I’ll just have to torture you until you cave.”

“Cave about what?”

“I want you to wear my jersey for the Compass Cup game. All the seniors ask someone to wear their jersey, and I want you to wear mine.”

“Is that the rivalry game that’s coming up?”

“Yeah. The Westfield Cheetahs versus the Eastbrooke Cougars. Everyone calls it the Pussy Bowl though.”

“That’s funny. Both teams are cats.”

“So?”

“No torture required, Dawson. I’d love to wear your jersey.”

“Excellent. That means we can move on to the fun.”

Dawson drives a short distance, parks, opens my door, and leads me, still blindfolded, somewhere.

He leads me through a door, down a long hall, and, I think, into an elevator.

We ride to what has to be an upper floor. That or it’s a really slow elevator.

The elevator dings and I can tell some people get on.

Dawson says to whoever, “I’m surprising her.”

I hear a woman laugh and say, “That’s so cute.”

We ride a little farther up, get off the elevator, walk a short distance, and then I hear the unmistakable beep of a keycard and a door opening.

Are we at a hotel?

Dawson guides me through the door, makes me take a few more steps, and then kisses me.

I don’t know what he has planned, but you can bet it’s going to be damn sexy.

“Do I have to stay blindfolded?”

“Hmmm, that might not be a bad idea.”

 He kisses me deeper and cups my ass.

“Are we alone?”

“We’re very alone. I’m gonna take off your blindfold, but you have to promise to be a good prisoner and do what I say.”

“I didn’t know I was a prisoner.”

“My prisoner of love.”

“Love?”

“You know what? I changed my mind. I think the blindfold needs to stay on a little longer.”

He runs his hands down my sides, unbuttons my jeans, and pulls them off me.

I reach toward him to feel if he still has his clothes on.

He grabs my hand and laughs. “Oh, no, no, Keatie. Don’t think you can use sex to try and get out of this.”

“So this isn’t about sex?”

“Nope. This is all about romance.”

“Dawson, I don’t get it. I’m not the one. You told me I’m not the one.”

“No one can see the future, Keatie. And anyone who claims they can is just blowing smoke up your ass.”

He undoes my bra, slips it off of me, and kisses me.

And being undressed and kissed while blindfolded is pretty freaking hot.

“So you blindfolding me and stripping me naked is all about romance?”

“Yes, it is.” He slides my panties off slowly, then he takes my hand and leads me to a room with a cold hard floor.

“Dawson, I wanna see.”

He responds with a kiss, runs his hands gently up my back, and then pulls off the blindfold.

I’m standing in a gorgeous creamy marble bathroom. There’s a big tub raised on a pedestal in the center of the room, surrounded by columns. The tub is filled with water and rose petals and there are unlit candles all over the vanity.

“I couldn’t build you a bath tub, so I decided to rent you one.”

I’m in shock. Shocked that he would do this.

“It smells amazing in here.”

“It’s the roses.” He points to a bouquet of red roses.

“They're gorgeous.”

“Get in the tub,” he says. So, of course, I do.

He walks over to the counter and lights the candles. Then he watches me lean back in the tub.

“Aren’t you getting in?”

He grins. “Nope. This is so you can relax.”

“This is amazing, Dawes, really.”

I take in the warmth of the water and the rose scent and feel myself instantly relax.

“What are you gonna do?”

“Just watch some football.”

“You’re really not getting in with me?”

He grins. “Nope. You said you like to relax alone.”

You’re not playing fair.

5:30pm

I lie in the tub for well over an hour. The water gets cold, so I drain a little out and add some more hot water.

Dawson peeks his head around the corner of the door. “How are we doing?”

“Dawes, oh my gosh. This is amazing. Seriously. I can’t believe you did this for me. Do you ever take baths?”

He laughs. “I don’t think I’ve taken a bath since I was little. How long do your baths usually last?”

“At least an hour, if I can, but I might have to go longer on this one. You really aren’t joining me?”

“Maybe later. I brought bubble bath. Do you want some?”

“Yes!!”

He disappears from the doorway then comes back with a bottle of bubbles. He heads back to watch football, while I drain most of the water out, add about a fourth of the bottle and fill the tub back up.

The bubbles are about six inches deep. It’s awesome.

I close my eyes and relax some more.

And maybe possibly fell asleep. I wake up chilly with no bubbles.

I decide to get out of the tub—since my fingers resemble prunes—wrap myself in a fluffy white towel, and walk into the bedroom. Dawson is sprawled out across a big bed watching TV.

“Finally had enough?”

“I think I fell asleep. I’m very relaxed.”

“And I’m very starved. Let’s order dinner.”

Shit. Dinner. Tutoring.

“What time is it?”

“A little after seven.”

“Shit. What did I do with my phone?”

He holds it up. “It’s here.”

I look around the bedroom, look out the door, and see a living room, dining area, and bar. “Dawson, this is a suite.”

“It had the best bathtub I could find.”

“I was supposed to tutor Aiden.”

“Yeah. I saw. He’s maybe texted you a few hundred times.”

He slides off the bed, walks up to me, kisses me, and then takes off his shirt.

Damn. He is so freaking sexy.

“You’re not playing fair,” I tell him.

“All’s fair in love and war.” He gives me a sexy-ass smile. One I can feel down to my toes.

Okay, halfway to my toes.

“Why don’t you order food and I’ll deal with my phone.”

5:09:  Aiden:  Waiting in the library.

5:16:  Aiden:  Where are you?

5:27:  Aiden:  I thought we were doing tutoring after your meeting.

5:34:  Aiden:  Peyton said you weren’t at the meeting. You okay? Are you sick or something?

6:04:  Aiden:  Please text me back . . . 

I text Annie.

Me:  I think you’re supposed to be back by now. My French homework is done if you want to borrow it. I was supposed to tutor Aiden tonight, but I’m off campus and won’t be back until tomorrow morning. So if he needs help, maybe you can help him?

Annie:  I will. Are you okay?

Me:  I’m fine. Just off campus. How did the party go!?

Annie: Really well. And guess what?

Me:  What?

Annie:  There’s this big porch swing at my house. We were sitting in it. Talking. Swinging. He kissed me and then . . . HE SAID IT!!! He cupped my face in his hand, and looked at me SO ADORABLY, and told me he loves me. That’s why he said no last night.

Me:  OMG! Annie!!! I’m so happy for you!

Annie:  I’m happy for me too. 

I fire off a quick text to Katie, so she knows I won’t be home tonight. Then I text Aiden.

Me:  I’m fine. Just went off campus. Annie said she can help you with French. Just text her, she has my workbook. 

I hit send then quickly turn my phone off. I know he’s going to ask me why I went off campus and I don’t want to answer that question.

Because I don’t know the answer.

I never expected Dawson to do something like this. I look back inside the bathroom at the tub surrounded by candlelight and roses and wonder if it really is just about sex. Because right now, it doesn’t feel like it.

Dawson comes back in the bedroom.

I let my towel drop to the floor and say, “So you and me in a hotel room for the next twelve hours. You planning to let me just sit in the bathtub and turn into a prune?”

“I’d rather turn you on.” He touches my leg, so I lean in a little closer. “Hey, you’re getting me all wet!” he says.

I give him my most seductive look and coo, “It’s only fair. You get me wet.”

My comment hangs there for a minute. He stares at me, desire filling up his eyes, and then he pulls me down on the bed with him.

I’m unbuttoning his jeans when there’s a knock on the door.

“That must be room service. Why don’t you put on a robe and I’ll get the door.”

I decide not to get a robe.

I hear everything getting set up on the dining room table and then the door closing again.

Dawson calls out, “Dinner is served.”

I walk out into the dining room buck-naked.

Dawson is standing at the dining table, pulling silver lids off our plates.

I sit down.

Put a napkin across my lap.

Grab a roll. Take a teeny bite. Smile at him.

He’s frozen, staring at me.

I raise my eyebrows at him and shrug my shoulders. “Guess I finally feel comfortable enough to eat naked. Maybe you should be naked too.”

He holds my gaze while he strips off his pants.

I take another bite of my roll. Smirk at him. Wait for him to attack me.

But instead, he sits down.

For a second, I feel disappointed.

But he stands back up quickly, scoops me up out of the chair, drops me on the couch, and pounces on top of me.

The second our lips meet it’s frantic.

I kiss him deeply, like I’m starved for him. It’s only been about 48 hours since our Greek day romp in his room, but it feels like weeks. I kiss him. Kiss his chest, his neck, but then back to his lips. I can’t seem to kiss him deeply enough.

When I can’t take it anymore, I arch myself toward what I really want.

Then I’m overcome with feelings. Feelings of lust, of passion, of desire, of how could it get better than this, of don’t stop, of just do it a little harder, of that was amazing.

“You’re amazing,” I breathe out.

“We’re amazing together, Keatie. Don’t forget that.”

Monday, October 24th

Seriously insatiable.

7:07am

I manage to roll into the Social Committee meeting, Red Bull in hand, at 7:07, which is a feat of unparalleled proportions, as Dawson is seriously insatiable. And while I’m feeling quite relaxed, it’s safe to assume I didn’t get much sleep, for the aforementioned reason. Peyton and Whitney drone on about the Greek weekend’s success, what worked and what didn’t, while I do my best to stay awake and not to look at Aiden.

Because I kinda feel guilty.

They announce that, based on a Facebook poll, our next themed weekend will be French and how excited they all are. Peyton, Brad, Whitney, and Aiden were obviously busy last night.

Brad, who is sitting next to me, goes into details about their plans. I’m half listening, half sleeping with my eyes open.

“So I’m excited about the French theme, but we should have a catchy name for the weekend,” he drones on. “A slogan, if you will. Let’s brainstorm.”

I hear voices calling out ideas.

I see London, I see France.

That one makes me chuckle.

A Night in Paris.

A Weekend in Paris.

I imagine my trip to Paris. My pink dress fluttering around me like spun sugar.

Cougars and  Croissants.

Berets and Beignets.

Viva la France.

Bonjour, Eastbrooke.

L’Amour.

I hear Peyton speak up. “Not to be critical, but I don’t like any of them. While Greek weekend was more about fun and games, I want the French weekend to have a completely different feel. I want it to evoke romance.”

I’m barely awake. Sort of stuck between reality and a Parisian daydream. I wistfully think of what Aiden told me that one day. It sounded so incredibly romantic.

“Top of the Eiffel Tower, sunset,” I whisper softly.

“What did you say?” Brad asks, knocking his elbow into mine.

“Huh? Uh, what?”

“What did you just say about the Eiffel Tower?”

“Um, I don’t think I said anything.”

“Yes, you did. Something about sunset.”

Peyton grins at me. “That’s it! Top of the Eiffel Tower. Sunset.”

Whitney nods enthusiastically. “I love it. It sounds so romantic.”

I gulp, realizing what I’ve just done. I don’t dare look at Aiden, but somehow, I can’t stop myself from glancing his way.

He does that thing. Where he stares at me, looks into my soul, grabs it, and doesn’t let go. Then he blinks slowly and his mouth starts that slow buildup to a smile. The little smirk, the smile, and then the full-wattage grin.

Shit.

I’ve got to get more sleep!

Brad hands out passes, adjourning the meeting. They talked all through history class and English is about to start, so I rush out of the room and head to class.

As usual, I sit next to Dallas during English.

“Do you wanna chill tonight?”

“Can we tomorrow night? I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night. I’m really tired.”

“Yeah, where were you?”

“Relaxing.”

“Bullshit.”

“Why do you think it’s bullshit?”

“Cuz if you wanted to relax, you’d call me.”

“True. This was a surprise, though. I didn’t plan it.”

“Who did?”

“You can’t tell anyone, not even Riley. Dawson kidnapped me, blindfolded me . . .”

“Kink-ay.”

“No, like, he blindfolded me so I would be surprised about where we were going. Remember yesterday when I mentioned how much I miss baths? Dawson got this huge hotel suite with an amazing tub, so I took three super long baths. I think my fingertips might still be prune-ish.” I hold up my fingers to show him.

“So you and Dawes in the tub, huh?”

“No. I took all three baths by myself. He watched football. He did it to be sweet, not just for sex.”

“So you didn’t have sex?”

I roll my eyes at him.

“Fine. Tomorrow night. Just you, me, and the Cave. Got it? We seriously need to figure out who you’re choosing. You dating them both is not gonna work.”

“Says the guy who made out with three different girls at the Cave Saturday night. It’ll work just fine.”

But I’m not really sure that it will.

Parallel lines that will never cross.

Ceramics

Jake, Bryce, and I are sitting at our table, staring at our pieces that got fired in the big kiln this weekend. Jake’s bowl looks pretty good, although slightly off kilter.

Bryce attempted a vase. It’s round and fat on the bottom and gets skinnier toward the top, so it’s recognizable as a vase. We glazed it a pretty blue, so he probably got a decent grade.

Mine, however, is a disaster.

And I’m so sad because I worked really, really hard on it.

I rolled out tons of skinny strips, like when I used to make play dough snakes when I was little. Then I rolled each snake into a curled up circle, flattened the circle, and put all the circles together to make a bowl. It looked amazing and I was so proud of it.

It, however, did not survive the kiln. It melted apart and is lying in front of me, a bunch of circular pieces in ruins.

“Lookin’ good,” Jake says, elbowing me.

“Shut up. You know how hard I worked on this.”

Our teacher flits by, telling me I needed to put the circles on a base, as she hands us back our grade sheets.

Bryce says, “Sweet, I got a C.”

Jake flips his paper over, grinning and showing off a B.

I don’t even want to look at mine.

“You failed, huh?” Jake asks.

“I’m sure.”

Bryce flips over my paper. On the top of it is a B. “How the hell did you get a B? It fell apart?”

I read the note from the teacher. You had a beautiful and creative design. This was the most thought you’ve put into a piece all year. I’d like to see more like this from you. We’ll work harder on the structure next time. If it had survived the kiln, you would have gotten an A.

I leave ceramics feeling good about my grade, but wondering about my life.

And how the broken pieces relate to it.

I’ve never worked on my structure. I fell apart every time Brooklyn ditched me and I’m not going to do it again.

I want a relationship that can survive the kiln.

I know Dallas thinks I need to choose, but I don’t want to.

And, after last night, I’m not ready to.

Dawson is like my history class. It doesn’t relate to ceramics. They are two separate classes that don’t intersect. Completely parallel lines that will never cross.

I can keep them separate.

And in the mean time, I’ll work on my own foundation.

All’s fair in love and war.

Lunch

As I walk into the café, Annie grabs my arm and pulls me aside. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were with Dawson at a hotel!”

I pull her back out into the hall. “How do you know that?!”

She looks at me like I am an idiot. “It’s on Facebook?”

“It’s what?! What does it say?”

She fiddles with her phone, pulling up Dawson’s profile and shoving it in front of me.

 I heart hotel bath time with Keatie.

 I close my eyes tightly and mutter, “I’m going to kill him.” I calm myself down and open my eyes. “When did you see it? Do you think Aiden saw it?”

“I think everyone saw it, and everyone knows you were both gone last night.”

“When did he post it?”

She looks down at the screen. “About an hour ago.”

My panic returns. “Annie! We have to go to French next. How am I supposed to go to French? Ohmigawd! History and ceramics just intersected! They weren’t supposed to do that! I think I’m gonna be sick. Can you be sick too? Can we skip?”

“What are you talking about classes intersecting? You’re making no sense, and you’re freaking out. You never freak out. If you like Aiden, why did you spend the night with Dawson?”

“I’m so confused, Annie. I thought Dawson and I were just about sex. And I was going to be done with him, but then he got me this huge suite because I had mentioned that I missed taking baths. He’s trying to romance me. And I took three baths all by myself while he watched football.”

“So you didn’t do anything with him?”

“That’s beside the point, Annie. I cannot go to French! What am I gonna do!?”

“Are you mad at Dawson for posting it?”

Then it dawns on me. He did it on purpose. What did he tell me? All’s fair in love and war?

And maybe it is, unless you’re collateral damage.

Am I collateral damage?

Do I even know what collateral damage is?

Or was it a direct hit?

I spy Dawson sitting at the lunch table and chatting with Bryce.

I march over with my hands on my hips, and Annie on my heels. “A word with you?”

Bryce grins. “I wondered why you were all dreamy in ceramics.”

I ignore him.

“What’s wrong?” Dawson asks.

“Your Facebook post,” I say grimly.

His eyes sparkle at me, and he shrugs. Normally, I would find this very sexy.

I sit down in the chair next to him. “Please, delete it,” I plead.

“Nope.”

“I hate you.”

He leans in and whispers, “No, you hate that you love sex with me so much that you can’t give it up. And I can play too. Why is it okay for Aiden to take you to fancy French dinners? If it weren't for him, we'd be back together.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it. It’s because of you that we’re not together.”

“But, Keatie, you understood. You forgave me. Obviously. We’ve done a lot of making up.”

I shake my head at him, not sure what to do.

I don’t eat. I feel sick because I know what’s next.

French.

I don’t know who to turn to for advice, so I decide to send Grandma a quick email.

Grandma– 

How do you choose between two evils?

“Annie, ohmigawd, walk with me to French. Tell me something. Distract me.”

“Like what?” The thought of having to distract me seems to make her panic.

“Tell me more about this weekend.”

She smiles sweetly, her panic gone. “It was good. The night we almost did, um, it, I did more than touch it.”

“More with your hand or with your mouth?”

“Both! I figured I would do it wrong, but I was really excited that it worked.”

“It usually does.” I laugh. “Well, that's good. So you’re in love?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“But you said it?”

She sighs. “I know. And now I’m worrying about it. I'm probably analyzing too much and not feeling enough.”

“For a hopeless romantic, I'm surprised you’re not just letting yourself feel.”

She stops walking and looks at me intently. “Is that what you do?”

I think about that. Am I the polar opposite of Annie? Do I feel too much and analyze too little?

“Is that what you think I do?”

“I don't know. You seem ruled by emotion. Like, you go with whatever you feel at the time.”

“Actually, no, Annie. That’s not right. With Dawson, I feel and don't think. With Aiden, I think and try not to feel.”

“Why? Why do you keep doing stuff with Dawson when you really like Aiden?”

“Because it’s scary, Annie. Dawson is a known quantity. Maybe he doesn’t love me in the true love fairy tale sense, but how many people even find that in high school?”

“Two percent.”

“How do you even know that?”

“I looked it up on the internet. I wanted to know what the odds are that Ace and I would actually stay together and get married.”

“That percentage is really low.”

She nods. “I know. But I really do love him.”

“I really loved my ex, too. But we’re not together now. My point is, when you are in love, it’s all rainbows and sunshine. But my mom says that relationships are hard work. And lots of people date, break up, get back together, and end up happily married. Just because Dawson doesn’t know what he wants out of his life now, it doesn’t mean we couldn’t be happy together in the future.”

“Or not.”

“Exactly. That’s my point, exactly. So maybe it is more just lust with us. But it’s fun. It’s easy. I know where I stand with him. I know what to expect. He's sweet. The sex is hot. With Aiden, I don’t know what to expect. And I like him, Annie, I do. And that’s part of why I kinda think I’d be better off with Dawson. I don’t want to get hurt again. Some of the stuff that Aiden says is so amazing, but at the same time, it’s almost unbelievable. Like I don’t know if he’s just telling me what he thinks a girl wants to hear or if he really means it.”