Текст книги "Love Me"

Автор книги: Jillian Dodd

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“What does your heart say?”

“My heart is afraid of Aiden.”

“I want to marry Ace. We always have so much to talk about. We even watched the History Channel last night, and he thought it was cool, not weird.”

“Wow, that is weird.”

She bumps my arm. “Shut up!”

I laugh. “You know I'm just teasing. I’m really glad you’re not mad at me anymore. I missed you.”

“I missed you too. Shit,” she says, nodding her head to the right. “There's Aiden. Three o’clock.”

“Let’s pray he didn't see it.” Then I grab her arm and whisper, “Truth be told, I could picture myself married to Aiden.”

“So stop seeing Dawson.”

We sit down in class.

Aiden files in after us, sits at his desk, and immediately leans up behind me. “So, you were at a hotel with Dawson?”

“Yes.”

“Taking baths?”

“Yeah. Earlier yesterday I was telling him and Dawson and Riley that was one thing I really missed about home. I used to take a bath almost every day.”

“And what’d you do in the bathtub?”

“Soaked. Relaxed. Fell asleep.”

“Whatever.”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but Dawson and I did nothing in the bathtub. He watched football while I took a bath. Actually, two very long baths. Like, it was hours. Then we got hungry, so we ordered room service, and then I took another bath. Alone.”

“And then you spent the night with him. Or did you sleep in the bathtub too?”

“Um . . .”

“Never mind. I don’t want to know.”

Class starts, so I can’t talk to him. I get my phone out sneakily—I’m learning—put it under my desk, and text him.

Me:  I’m always alone when I take a bath. It’s like meditating for me. I close my eyes. Feel the warm water on me. Let my mind wander everywhere or nowhere. It’s like my time. I love it here but there isn't any ME time. We’re constantly with people. What Dawson did for me was sweet. I am mad about the post though, and he knows it. 

Hottie God:  You spent the night with him. I know what that means.

Me:  Can we hang out tonight after tutoring? Please don’t be mad at me. I didn’t plan it. He surprised me. I thought we were done, honestly. 

Hottie God:  Sometimes I hate you.

Me:  Dawson never hates me.

Hottie God:  Ever think that’s cuz he doesn’t care as much as I do?

Me:  I don’t know what I think.

Hottie God:  :(

Me:  Could we do tutoring with food tonight?

Hottie God:  Off site or my room?

Me:  My room. We never hang out in my room. I’ll order Chinese? Maybe you can see the stars.

Hottie God:  Will Katie be there?

Me:  Nope :)

Hottie God:  You gonna ditch me again?

Me:  No. I promise.

Hottie God:  Pinkie swear?

Me:  Absolutely.

Most important to you.

Dance

Right after dance, Peyton sticks her head in the locker room and says, “Keatyn, can you please come in Miss Tina’s office with me?”

“Uh, sure.”

Peyton shuts the door behind us.

Shit. Am I in trouble?

Miss Tina shuffles through some papers then she looks up at me and says, “It has come to my attention that you’re currently failing English. You know if you’re failing, you don’t get to dance.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“We explained it to you at the beginning of the year. How you have to keep your grades up, just like all the sports.”

“Oh, yeah.”

I feel like I could cry. My face gets all hot. I don’t know what to say. I’m so embarrassed. I’ve never failed anything.

“So, today is Monday. If you want to perform at the game this week, you’ll have to get your grade up above a 70. You’ll still practice with the team. You just won’t get to perform.”

“Okay,” I say, trying not to cry. I can’t even believe I’m in this situation. I have always gotten good grades.

“Do you have an English test or homework coming up that could help raise your grade by Friday?” Peyton asks gently.

“We have a test on Thursday.”

“Study hard for it. You’ve got a 68, so if you do well, you’ll bring it up easily.”

“Okay.”

Miss Tina adds, “You also might consider lessening some of your commitments. You’re in a lot of extracurricular activities and seem to have an active social life. You need to decide which of those things is most important to you.”

Avoiding evil.

4:45pm

And once again.

Someone spoke words to me about one subject that make me think about another subject.

You need to decide which of those things is most important to you. 

It’s like the universe is telling me to choose.

But I’m too tired.

I get in my room, drop my backpack on the floor, and lie on my bed.

I go to take my English test, but I don’t have a pencil. Only a pen. And the teacher won’t let me take it with a pen. She tells me I should’ve chosen more wisely.

Then I feel a hand rub across my face. It’s very relaxing. Something my dad used to do to me when I was little. He’d run his fingertips across my face, up the bridge of my nose, across my forehead, down my cheek, and across my chin. It’s how he would get me settled down and ready for bed.

But what does this have to do with English? 

I slowly open my eyes.

Aiden is sitting on the edge of my bed running his hand across my face. He smiles at me.

“Can we forget tutoring, and you can just rub my face forever?”

“Forever, huh?”

“It feels good. It’s an expression. I just meant, like, for a while, before we get started.”

I assume he’s going to comply, so I close my eyes. He runs his fingertip across my eyelid, probably totally destroying my eye shadow, but I don’t care. I keep my eyes closed and lean my head toward him. As he runs his hand across my hair, my mind flashes to forever, him taking care of me like this. I hate that I can see forever with him so clearly, but I have no idea what to do about him today.

“Are you dating Chelsea too?” I blurt out, not opening my eyes.

His hand stops. “No, why?”

“Because you hung out with her Friday night. I wasn’t with Dawson. You could’ve . . .”

“Yeah, I could have. But you were upset. I didn’t want to upset you anymore.”

“And you were talking to her at the Cave too.”

He leans down, kisses my forehead, my cheek, and then my nose. “I know you have unfinished whatever with Dawson, and I don’t want to push you. Are you about finished with Dawson?”

“I don’t know. He’s really sweet to me.”

“Look, I don’t know if this is gonna work.”

See. He can’t be my forever love.

He’s already giving up on me.

On us.

And I don’t know why, but little tears spring up in my eyes, run down the sides of my face, and into my ears.

Actually, I do know why. It hurts to hear him say it.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’ve just had a bad day,” I lie. Well, not lie, exactly, because I have had a bad day. My blurting out the Eiffel Tower comment this morning. Dawson’s Facebook thing. Aiden being mad about it. The soccer workout from hell. Failing English. Choosing a pen when I should’ve chosen a pencil, and, now, Aiden giving up.

“What happened?” he asks in a way that sounds like he has the power to fix anything.

Aiden is so far in my heart.

How did I let that happen?

I’ve been trying so hard not to let him in.

“I’m failing English. I’m gonna get kicked off dance if I don’t do really well on my test Thursday.”

“I know how you feel. I went through that all last year. The pressure and threat of being kicked off all my teams because of French. Thank goodness Miss Praline was nice and let me do just enough extra credit to keep me at about a seventy, but it was so close, always. I did have to sit out two basketball games, though. It sucked.”

“I just have so much going on. It’s hard to find time for it all.”

“Okay, so this week, instead of you tutoring me in French, I’m going to tutor you in English.”

“We still have to do our French homework, but that’d be nice. Why are you so nice to me, Aiden?”

I wait for him to say something incredibly sweet. Smile that blazing smile at me. Kiss me.

“Well, I need you out there dancing, shaking those pompoms for me and the team.”

Oh. Wow. He only needs me to dance for him while he’s playing football? Me and seventeen other girls.

Not really what I wanted to hear.

I sigh, “Oh.”

“So, when is the Chinese coming?”

I grimace. “I forgot to order it. I’m so sorry. I came in my room, dropped my backpack, lay down and, well, you woke me up.”

“Sorry.”

“No, it was the best way ever to be woken up.”

He smiles at me. Like I just gave him the best compliment in the world.

“You haven’t been getting enough sleep.”

“I know, last night I . . .”

He doesn’t let me finish. He immediately flicks off the switch.

I used to wish that I could flip the switch. Whatever it was that made him so powerful and attractive to me. So I could speak without stuttering, laugh without sounding like a hyena, and think without getting all foggy.

But I won’t ever wish for that again. I don’t like seeing it flipped.

He slumps a little and frowns at me. “You know what? I’m hungry; you’re tired. Why don’t I just go to the café, and you can get some more sleep. See ya later, Boots.”

And he leaves.

Mad at me again.

Like I told Annie earlier, at least I know where I stand with Dawson. With Aiden I feel like I’m standing in quicksand, slowly being sucked under, while he’s standing off to the edge, watching me, trying to decide if he should let me suffocate or toss me the rope that’s in his hands.

I pick up my phone and see that Grandma replied to my email.

Keatyn– 

Since I’m not sure what you’re talking about in reference to two evils, I’m going to assume we are talking about boys, seeing as you asked about true love recently. I hope you are dating nice young men, not any young hoodlums. I know the bad boy gives girls thrills, but he also usually breaks your heart. Well, not always, your grandfather was a bit ornery when I met him. Anyway, I haven’t replied because I’ve been trying to decide what to tell you. Mae West said, “When choosing between two evils, I like to try the one I’ve never tried before.” 

I say, skip the evils and find a nice boy. 

One who will treat you like gold.

Love you,

Grandma

Grandma doesn’t realize it, but she just gave me totally conflicting advice. If I follow Mae’s advice, I would chose Aiden. I want to chose Aiden. But I need him to choose me.

And is that selfish? Maybe. But I have to take care of me.

Take care of my heart.

If I take Grandma’s advice, I’d pick Dawson. Dawson is a nice young man. He’s sweet, and he won’t hurt me. I know he already hurt me once, but he doesn’t have the same power over me that Aiden does. That I-see-my-life-in-20-years-and-he’s-still-in-it power.

I wish Aiden would just stop wooing me and throw me over his shoulder like a caveman, say I’m his, and drag me back to his cave forever. Then I’d know.

Right now we’re in this awkward, half friends, half study buddies, and half boyfriend-and-girlfriend place.

Wow, even my math skills have gone to shit.

Because, clearly, three halves do not make a whole.

Okay. This week is all about studying. All about me. I’m going to avoid both Dawson and Aiden. I’m going to be too busy studying to deal with them. That’s my plan.

I’ll avoid evil all together.

Katie, Annie, and Maggie come bounding into the room.

“Hey, we’re getting ready to go to the café. Wanna come?” Maggie asks.

“I don’t feel very good. I think I’m just gonna stay here.”

“Do you want us to bring you back something?” Annie asks sweetly.

Katie butts in. “Are you sick?”

“Or did relaxing with Dawson wear you out?” Maggie jokes.

“I think maybe a little of both, but I sorta feel sick.”

They head out to dinner.

Am I lovesick?

I call Riley.

He answers. “Hey.”

“What are you doing?”

“Eating dinner with Dallas, Aiden, Logan, Parker, and some other guys. Where are you?”

“I think I’m getting sick.”

“Does Riley need to bring you some soup?”

“I’d love that. I was supposed to tutor Aiden, but he’s mad at me, and I think he hates me again. Wait. Why are you sitting with Aiden? You never sit with him.”

“I don’t know, just did.”

“Oh. If you wanna bring me something, that’d be cool. My throat kinda hurts, so I’m not that hungry, but I sorta am.”

“I’ll find something. See ya in a few, baby.”

I go wash my face, put on some comfy pajamas, and lie back down.

I start dreaming I’m in a car that’s crashing at an intersection.

Riley sits on my bed. I open my eyes, but it’s not Riley. It’s Aiden, holding a styrofoam bowl and a plastic spoon.

I cover my face with my hand.

“You weren’t supposed to come. Why are you here?”

He gently grabs my hand and uncovers my face.

He leans in and kisses my forehead. “Riley said you’re sick. You don’t look sick.”

I’m now positive he can read my mind. Does he just keep getting more powerful by the freaking day? But if he can read my mind, why doesn’t he know that I’m crazy about him?

“My throat hurts.”

“You’re tired. You don’t get enough sleep.”

“You didn’t answer my question. Why are you here?”

“Why does Riley call you baby?”

“I don’t know. He just does. He thinks he needs to protect me. Like a big brother or something.”

“Baby is what you call your girlfriend. Not your friend.”

“Why does it matter? And you still haven’t told me why you’re here.”

“I brought you soup.”

“Yeah, I see that, but why? You left mad at me. But you’re always mad at me, so I’m used to it. You wanna know the real reason I’m still seeing Dawson? That’s why. And I know my saying that is gonna make you mad again, so you might as well take your soup and leave. You’re going to anyway.”

He glares at me, his eyes turning a pissed off shade of forest green.

He sets the soup on my nightstand and walks out my door.

I call Riley and don’t even let him get out a “hey.” “WHAT THE HELL!?”

“Your throat seems to be better. Did the soup help?”

“I haven’t eaten the soup. Why the hell did you send Aiden?”

“He volunteered. I thought you’d like it.”

“One: he and I were supposed to have dinner together, but he got mad and left. Two: I had just taken off all my makeup and put on pajamas because I thought it was you coming. And three: now he is mad at me again. Rileeeeeey, come over, please.”

“I’m supposed to go hang with Ariela.”

I don’t say anything. I just let out a pathetic huff.

“Fine,” he says. “I’ll be right there.”

A few minutes later, he is sitting on my bed.

“She’s pissed at me now.”

“Why?”

“Cause I call you baby, and I just ditched her for you.”

“Didn’t you tell her I’m sick?”

“Yeah, I don’t think that mattered.”

“I’m sorry. Just forget it; go see her.” I bite my lip and start to tear up. What is wrong with me?

Riley stares at me. “Scoot over,” he says as he slides onto my bed. I lay my head on his chest and hug him. “Are you really sick?”

“My throat is scratchy.”

He rubs my back gently. “Eat your soup.”

“I think I lost what little appetite I had when Aiden left. Riley, did you tell Ariela that you liked her right away? Like, how did she know?”

“Baby, seriously, you know Aiden likes you. Why do you keep questioning it?”

“Because he’s questioning it.”

“Why do you think he’s questioning it?”

“I have no clue.”

“Because you are still seeing Dawson, maybe?”

“No way I’m giving up Dawson for someone who doesn’t even know what he wants.”

“Well, that makes sense, I guess. Why don’t you try to get some sleep. I’m sure things will be better in the morning.”

Tuesday, October 25th

English is my new lover.

6:30am

I get up early, see it’s raining, and decide to improve the dreary day with a cute new uniform look. I put on the navy plaid pleated skirt, a bright yellow blouse with ribbon flowers down the front, the navy blazer, and tall Hunter lace-up rain boots in a bright marigold. Over it, I add a short gabardine Burberry belted trench coat, grab a bright yellow umbrella, and then head to the café for a hearty breakfast.

I purposely sit by myself and start studying English. The test is in two days. And for two days, I am on a no-boy diet.

No Aiden. No Dawson.

Just me and English.

English is my new lover. I’ll be like one of those girls who gets all obsessed over a boy when they first meet, and she posts all sorts of lovey shit on her Facebook. Like Ariela did with Riley. All that, Oh, baby I love you, hearts and shit.

I realize I just sounded very cynical. When did I become such a cynic about love?

Oh yeah, when Brooklyn screwed the girl in the cabana and when Dawson dumped me for Whitney.

N0! Stop that!

No thinking about boys!

English. English. English!

I go back to studying my notes.

Aiden slides into the seat across from me. I don’t have to look up to know it’s him, I feel the pull of my heart practically being sucked out of my body.

“You feeling better?” he asks sweetly.

I look up at him. He’s wearing a deep blue oxford with contrasting paisley fabric inside the collar. A navy blazer. And a purple and blue paisley tie, partially tied around his neck. His shoulders still have little drops of rain on them. He looks like he does after football practice, his hair wet, slightly messed up. But instead of being sweaty and gross, he’s all dressed up. The combination of the two make him look unbelievably, adorably sexy. I want to jump over the table and into his arms.

But instead I say, “Yeah, I went to bed early. So, um, look Aiden. I can’t do tutoring tonight. I really need to focus.”

He tilts his head at me. “I told you, I’ll help you study.”

“I wish you could, but lately all we do is fight, and it’s distracting. I really have to study.”

He looks mad. Starts to get up to leave.

“Why do you seem mad? I thought you of all people would understand how important it is that I get a good grade on this test.”

“It feels like you’re pushing me away.”

“I’m not. I just have to pass. I’ve never failed at anything.” Except relationships, I think. “But I’ll make you a deal. Thursday night you can come to rehearsal and study with me. We’ll talk. Maybe work on our framework.”

“Our framework?”

“Yeah, I want to get to know you before I build something that is going to collapse in a heap like my ceramics project.”

“You have an unusual way of thinking, but I’d like that. I don’t think I want to collapse into a heap.”

A fiery kiss.

6pm

I barricade myself in a private study room and try not to think about when I was here with Dawson. I’m making notecards and flash cards, using a highlighter, and doing anything else I can think of to help me study, when I get a call from Dawson.

“What’s up?” I say.

“Where are you hiding?”

“Library.”

“Private study room?”

“Yeah. What did you need?”

There’s a beep beep telling me that the call dropped.

A few minutes later, there’s a knock on the door. I peek out and see Dawson.

“There you are,” he says, pushing through the door and eyeing the jean skirt I changed into after school. “Damn, Keatie, you looked sexy today, but tonight you just look hot.”

“I have to study.”

“Yeah, I know. We should study fairy tales and happy endings,” he says, pulling me into his arms and giving me a fiery kiss.

“It’s happily ever after. Not happy endings.”

He shrugs. “Same thing.”

Uh, no. So not the same thing.

He unbuttons my blouse and slides his hand up my skirt.

And I like it.

Shame on me, but I do.

Because it turns out that English is not a very good lover.

Pretty quickly, I’m hot and bothered and kissing Dawson recklessly. I want him. I want to feel wanted.

When he pulls a condom out of his pocket and says, “No mess,” I practically rip it out of his hands to open it.

He picks me up and pushes me against the door.

It’s over quickly. Both of us breathing heavily and quickly getting our clothes back into place.

“Every time is so good,” he says. “So hot. I’m halfway afraid to do it with anyone else.”

“Why’s that?”

“I’m afraid it won’t be as good.”

“It’ll be good if you care about them, I think. And maybe if it’s just for fun it will be good too. I’m not really sure about all that. Dawson, you’ve grown up since you and Whitney. It sounds like you did it a lot this past summer. You’ve gotten better, or more confident, probably.”

“I think I could do it with you forever. Even if we married other people, I’d still want to do it with you. Speaking of that. How are things going with Aiden?”

“After your posting about the bathtub, you mean?”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” he says with a grin.

I shake my head at him. “You are not sorry.”

“You’re right. I’m not.”

“What happened to you just wanting to go to college?”

“That’s months away. Months that we could be having fun.”

In the moonlight.

8pm

Logan is on stage practicing a really funny hot tub scene. I’m done with the first part of it and am standing on the stage with Jake. There’s a skinny black curtain in front of us to hide us until the end of the scene.

I watch Logan make out like crazy—in a funny way, lots of exaggerated hands rubbing down each other’s backs, heads smooshed together and moving in a fake passionate kiss—with the rest of the contestants. Before each one leaves, he tells her she is the girl he wants to make his princess.

The best part of the scene is that the prop hot tub sits up off the ground. There are fake water bubbles in the tub. Each contestant pops up from under the water and then pops down when the contestants change. What's really funny is the first time one of the contestants goes down you think she’s going under the water to do naughty things to him, but then you laugh when you realize it’s a scene change.

And Logan plays it up by smirking at the audience.

After the last contestant leaves, his butler brings him champagne. He leans back and says, “They’re all in love with me. I’m wooing them with my words and my lips. My brother doesn’t stand a chance. His being in love with the cheerleader has worked better than I could’ve planned. She’s ignoring him, and he’s ignoring all the other contestants. It’s brilliant.”

The stage darkens on them as the thin curtain in front of us goes up and a spotlight shines on Jake and me.

He reaches out, taking both of my hands in his. “I’m sorry I didn't tell you, but for once I wanted a girl to fall in love with me. Just me,” the Good Prince pleads.

Of course, earlier in the play, the Bad Prince told my character that his brother is a total player and that he says that to all the girls.

“Your brother told me you say that to all the girls.”

“Don't you believe in true love? The fairy tale kind?” he implores, pulling my hands dramatically to his chest.

“Yeah, I do, but not with a liar.”

I run away from him, the spotlight and little moon following me to the hot tub.

“Hey, slow down there, Boots,” the Bad Prince says to me, totally straying from the script.

“Boots?” I ask.

“Yeah, when I first met you, you were wearing those cute little cowboy boots.”

My real life flashes before my eyes.

I walk up to the hot tub like I'm scripted to do, sit down, slip my boots off, and put my feet in the hot tub.

“Do you believe in true love?” I ask with a sigh.

The Bad Prince knows now that he's in trouble. That I’m still in love with his brother. Which puts his plan to get all the contestants to fall in love with him and reject his brother in danger of failing.

While I'm staring dreamily at the moon, the butler sneaks on stage and whispers in the Bad Prince’s ear. “Sire, this one could ruin our plan.”

He shoes the butler away, swims over to me, and replies with, “Of course, I believe in it.” Then he pops out of the tub and walks with me in the moonlight. He says one cheesy pickup line after another. How my eyes are beautiful. How I must have fallen from heaven. How it was instant. That it was fate that I met his brother and that he lied to me. Because it brought us together. “You’re my one true love. Can't you feel it? In here?” He touches my chest, reminding me of Brooklyn. “You're the only contestant I didn’t kiss tonight. Yet you’re the only one I wanted to kiss. I want to kiss you for the rest of my life.”

He gently pushes my hair behind my ear and kisses my cheek.

“That’s perfect. Logan, love your improvised nickname for her. Keep that in there,” our director says.

I sit down in my seat. I want to yell at Logan for departing from the script. For including something so personal in the play. But I can’t, because I’m realizing how alike my real life and the play are.

“I’m tired of being the Bad Prince,” Logan says, plopping down next to me.

“You want to quit the play?”

“No. I mean in real life. I miss Maggie. My pride hates her, but the rest of me still loves her. Last year, all my friends told me that it was crazy. That we’d never last through high school, let alone college. Even my parents said it was just puppy love. And I guess they were right. We didn’t make it. But I'm never going to find another girl like her. And it's making me sick.”

“Lovesick,” I say with a sigh.

“Yeah.”

“Why did you just call me Boots? Is that your way of telling me that Aiden is the Bad Prince in real life?”

“Aiden is the only one of my friends who told me if she was my true love, we'd make it. Through high school. Through college. He believes in it. Speaking of Aiden. Why isn’t he here studying?”

I point at the English notes I’ve yet to look at since rehearsal started and say, “English is my new lover.”

He laughs. “Not doing well?”

“Failing. If I don’t do well on the test Thursday, I won’t be able to dance at the game.”

Logan nods and studies his fingernails. I only get through two notecards before he leans back, stretches, and says, “Screwing random girls in the hot tub of life is getting old.”

“But casual sex can be fun.”

“Once you've experienced sex with meaning, the rest never feels the same. No matter how hard you try.”

“I had that with the guy I was with before I came here.”

“The Keats guy?”

“You know about him?”

“Aiden told me about how he quoted Keats the night of the Welcome Back dance. How you kinda freaked out.”

“When I came here, we sort of broke up, but then sort of didn’t. I was confused. Love is confusing.”

“I’ll drink to that,” he says, pulling a flask with a shark on it out of his backpack. He hides it behind the seats in front of us and bends down really low to take a drink. “You know, what really sucks is that in real life, the Bad Prince wins a lot of the time. A lot of guys just tell girls what they want to hear.”

He looks up at the fake moon and sighs. “I want to be the one in the moonlight getting the kiss at the end.”

Wrapped around her little finger.

11:30pm

After Katie goes to sleep, I’m still thinking about what Logan said, so I go into the stairwell and call my mom.

“He-llow!” Gracie screams.

“Hi, Gracie. How are you, sweetie?”

She gives a little sigh. “Good Kiki?”

“Yes, how is the puppy?”

“Bad. Very bad. She stealed my kisses. Mommy says chocolate not for puppies. Puppies eat it. They die. But Kiki no die.”

“Well, that’s good.”

“Bad Kiki ate my purple purse. I mad at her.”

“Well, you have a birthday coming up. Maybe you can get a new one.”

“Gracie be three.”

“I know you will. You’re a big girl.”

“Gracie wanna make sandycastles wiff my Brookwyn and my Kiki.”

Forget the damage boys have done to my heart. I’m pretty sure Gracie just caused it to split in two.

“Me too, Gracie. I miss the beach. Mommy said you have a really big backyard where you can run and play.”

“Avery kicked me.”

“Why did she do that?”

“Gracie took hers chalk. Good Kiki come to my party?”

I close my eyes tightly, trying to ward away the tears.

“I can’t, sweetie. But I know you’ll have fun.”

“Gracie hate Kiki ’venture.”

“Can I talk to Mommy?”

“No!”

Then click.

I call back.

She answers, screaming. “I hate ’ventures. I hate Kiki!”

“Gracie!” I hear Emery yell at her. “Hate is a bad word!”

“Yeah,” Ivery says. “I’m going to tell Mommy.”

I hear a commotion. Screaming. Crying. The phone dropping.

Gracie apparently picks it back up. She screams into the phone again. “Gracie hate birffdays!”

Then, click.

I sit on the stairs and cry.

Then I realize that I may not be able to give her me, but I can get her something that she wants.

I dial Brooklyn.

“Hey, Keats.”

“Hey,” I say with a sniffle.

“Are you crying?”

“Kind of. Gracie’s birthday is coming up and she’s mad I’m not going to her party. She wants us to build sandy castles with her.”

“I miss that. I love all the girls, but Gracie always had me wrapped around her little finger.”

“Me too. She’s so bold and fearless. I wish I was more like her.”

“Keats, I’ve seen you conquer waves way above your skill level. You and Gracie are a lot alike.”

“B, would you mind sending her something for her birthday?”

“I was already planning on it.”

“Really?”

“Of course. I’ve also started researching stalking cases.”

“Really?” He continues to surprise me.

“Yes. I want you back in my life, Keats. I need you back in my life.”

“My life is so messed up, B. Just when I think I’m getting somewhere, I realize that all I’ve done is screw it up more.”

“Take control.”

“What do you mean?”

“I guess maybe all this has made me cynical. Or maybe it’s because I’m not smoking much anymore. But I’m tired of relying on fate. I’m going to figure a way out of this.”

“I suggested to Garrett that we hire a hit man and be done with it.”

B laughs. “I suggested the same thing. How’s the play going?”

“Our first performance is in a couple weeks.”

“I wish I could come watch you.”

“I wish you could too. I’ve been following your surfing. You’ve been doing really well.”

“Yeah. Getting second in the last two tournaments has been amazing. But now, I want first.”

“Has my laid-back surfer boy got a competitive streak I didn’t know about?”

“I miss that the most.”

“Miss what?”

“Hearing you call me yours.”

My phone buzzes. I pull it away from my ear and see that Mom is calling.

“That’s my mom on the other line. I should probably take it.”

“Sweet dreams, Keats.”

I click over to Mom.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Keatyn, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. She’s two. She doesn’t understand,” I sniffle.

“Sweetie, don’t cry. She doesn’t hate you.”

“This isn’t fair, Mom. I’m missing everything. Every new word. Every inch they grow. Every stupid thing the dog does. I can’t do this anymore. I love it here, but I’m living a lie. I’m lying to everyone. Most of all, myself. I’m trying to make a new life, but I don’t want to. I want my old life back. I’m going to do something drastic. I can’t take it anymore.”

“What do you mean, drastic?”

“Do you know anyone in the mob?”

“The mob?”

“I want to have Vincent killed.”

“Keatyn! No. You can go to jail for that. And you’d never see the girls if that happened.”

“How many years would I get if I got caught?”

“I don’t know.”