Keatyn Unscripted (The Keatyn Chronicles Book 8)

by Jillian Dodd

  I pretend like I don’t recognize him and say, “Were you out there today? Like on the soccer field I mean?” (Now this is one lie that she didn’t have to tell, but I love that she tells it. It’s so fitting of their relationship. Were you out there today, God of all Hotties? I just didn’t recognize you with your shirt on. LMAO.)

  “Uh, yeah.” He looks offended. “I was the goalie.”

  “Oh, wow, so that was you, huh?”

  “Yeah,” he says, just a bit awkwardly.

  “So wait. You’re Peyton’s brother?”

  “Guilty,” he says, holding up his hands.

  “She’s gorgeous.”

  “You’re pretty gorgeous yourself. And you have a mean kick. I’m curious. What possessed you to run out on the field like that anyways?”

  Did he just call me gorgeous??

  OMG!!

  Calmness, zenness, chillness, be with me now. (One of my favorite lines from the book and part of the quote I inscribe in every paperback of Stalk Me.)

  PLEASE!!!!

  “Oh, haha,” I awkwardly giggle. “I don’t know. Just saw the ball and felt like it. Sorry. It was probably stupid of me. I guess I just got caught up in the moment.”

  “I liked it, even though you made me miss.” Then he moves in to stand just a little closer to me and lowers his voice.

  “Well, really, you kinda embarrassed me. I don’t usually miss. But you, I couldn’t stop looking at you. I kinda forgot about the ball until it was coming at me.”

  “I think you were just shocked to see a girl running down the field in cowboy boots and a dress.”

  “That’s for sure. Not something you see every day around here. But I hope I get to see you more.”

  “Really?”

  His gorgeous green eyes are practically drilling their way into my soul as we speak. (They are, they really, really are!)

  I’m not going to swoon. I’m not going to act like probably every other girl acts in the presence of a hottie god. I’m going to walk away before I make a fool of myself. Hopefully leaving will make him want me more. Mom says you always leave them wanting more. (Even though I’m totally swooning.)

  But instead, I am just standing there, staring back at him. At his short blonde hair, that is perfectly, almost artfully, messed up on the top. At those gorgeous green eyes. At his perfect smile.

  I manage to say, “Hey, it was nice to meet you.” And then I squeeze around his tall, muscular body. When I accidentally brush up against him, I almost jump from the electrical feel of him. I quick walk over to sit in the relative safety of the freshman boy table.

  “See you were talking to Aiden,” Riley says.

  “Who’s Aiden?” I ask. I’m still in a bit of a daze. I mean, who could blame me? I was just touched by a god.

  “Uh, the guy you were just talking to, the goalie from today?”

  “Oh, yeah. I guess,” I shrug.

  “You should know he is a total player.” Riley tells me this, like it’s something I really need to know.

  Which kinda pisses me off. “Really? And you’re not? You have been trying to do nothing since we met, but convince me of your playing skills, and now you are condemning him for it?”

  Dallas is like, “Dude, she’s got a point.”

  Riley quips back, “I’m not a player, Kiki. I just want to settle down with a hot stripper named girl on my arm.” (I love Riley!)

  “Shut up. Seriously. Skip the Kiki crap.”

  I shove some lasagna in my mouth, and wish my mouth was doing something else.

  Something else with this Aiden boy.

  But then my mind flashes back to last night, with Brooklyn. I can see his face right next to mine. I can feel the way his weight felt when he was laying on top of me, the closeness I felt to him.

  Seriously, what is wrong with me? I lost my virginity to the love of my life less than 24 hours ago, and I’m drooling over the some random hottie.

  Not cool.

  Okay, so he’s not a random hottie. He is more like the god of random hotties.

  We eat, and then go to the freshman mixer. It’s pretty boring, honestly. But I met a few more people.

  The boys were bored, so we all left and walked around outside for a bit.

  I just dropped them all off at their dorm, and I’m walking back to my dorm when I hear, “Hey, Boots!”

  Boots?

  I turn around, and there is gorgeous goalie boy.

  God of all Hotties.

  “Uh, are you talking to me?”

  “Yeah, you didn't tell me your name, and since you were wearing those cute cowboy boots, I thought I'd call you Boots.”

  “Boots is the name of the monkey on Dora the Explorer.” What? Is he an idiot?

  “What's Dora the Explorer?”

  “It’s a kid’s show. Seriously, you've never heard of it? Swiper, no swiping? Backpack? Map? Tico the squirrel?”

  He looks at me with a blank face. “Uh, I don't think so. So....??”

  “So what?”

  “Are you gonna tell me your name, or what?”

  “Oh, um sure.” Then I get a little swag back. “If you tell me yours first.”

  You show me yours, I’ll show you mine, is what I wish I could say.

  He stares at me for a second, like I'm a fish he's trying to size up. See if he should throw me back in or not. He puts his hand out, for me to shake it, and says, “Hi, I'm Aiden."

  I smile at him and let out a little nervous laugh.

  I'm trying really hard to be all cool with this guy.

  Cuz the player comments are totally in my mind.

  I don't want to fall for a player, get my heart broken. And really, I'm not sure if Brooklyn gave me my heart back or not. But I’m single. We decided no strings, just friendship, when I left, so I say, “I'm Keatyn."

  “Really? I've never known a girl with that name. Only guys.”

  I stand there and stare at him, not sure if I'm supposed to be offended or not.

  “So, Boots,” he grins. “You have a date for the dance Saturday night?”

  “Uh no, I've been here for like five hours, I don't really know very many people yet.”

  “Well you've certainly made an impression on the male population so far.”

  I roll my eyes. “I highly doubt that. Unless, of course, their impression is that I'm freaking nuts, cuz apparently that's what a lot of the girls thought. Or so my roommate tells me.”

  He laughs. He's got a cute laugh that's kinda deep and sexy. Kinda a growl.

  Grrr, baby, grrrr. (My thoughts exactly, Keatyn.)

  Yeah, I don't say that.

  He says, “Freaking hot, yes. Freaking nuts, probably. Freaking adorable, absolutely. Plus, I have a lotta respect for a girl that can score on me.”

  And before I can edit myself, I blurt out, “Funny, I've heard just the opposite.”

  “What's that supposed to mean?”

  “I don't know. I just heard you’re a major player. Usually players don't have much respect for the girls they, uh, score with.”

  He narrows his eyes at me. I think I just pissed him off. (I just love their banter.)

  It’s cute. (It is.)

  He leans in to me and sorta breathlessly says, “How do you know it’s not just cuz I haven't met the right girl yet? I'm really a hopeless romantic, a sensitive soul. I know that doesn't sound very cool, but I am. And I'm looking for that special girl, so I guess you're right. I figure out pretty quickly if things are right or not. And if they aren't, well then, why waste my time? And I haven’t, um, scored with all the girls I’ve dated. I'm really not all that experienced.”

  I laugh out loud in his face.

  I didn’t mean to, but I did.

  Cuz I mean look at him!

  He's freaking gorgeous. Tonight he's got just a bit of stubble on that movie star jaw. And his hair is not messed up from soccer anymore.

  “I'm serious,” he says. “And uh, what about you, stripper Kiki?”

&nb
sp; “Hmmm. One, I am not a stripper. Two, they asked me if I have a nickname, and I stupidly told them at home my little sisters call me Kiki. Like key key. When they say it, it sounds adorable. When freshman boys say it, it sounds slutty.”

  “So maybe we’re both hearing things that aren't exactly true?”

  “How many girls did you go out with freshman year?”

  “Uh,” he hems and haws. Purses his lips. “I went out with eight.”

  “That's like one a month. Let me guess, you loved them all?”

  He winces. “Well, I heard you have a boyfriend. Some older surfer dude.”

  “Well, yeah, I like did, but when I came here, we decided we should go back to being friends. He's my best friend.”

  “Good to hear. Cuz you look like my next girlfriend.” (Torn between thinking he’s a jerk and swooning.)

  “Oh my gosh, did you really just use a pickup line on me? I thought you said you are a sensitive soul. More like your soul is full of bullshit.”

  “Uh, sorry. I don't know why I just said that. So hey, I gotta go, but save me a dance tomorrow night, k?”

  I gave him a flippant, "Sure," along with an eye roll.

  He turns, grabs both of my hands and says, "I'm serious." He looks me in the eye, and I swear, I almost fainted when he touched me.

  What the hell is wrong with me?

  Repeat after me.

  Do not fall for a player.

  Only date nice boys.

  Do not fall for a player.

  I shake my head a bit, get the cobwebs that seem to have formed in my brain out and walk back to my dorm.

  How not to impress a girl.

  9:00pm

  Back at the dorm, in the safety of my room. My roommate is already in bed and asleep.

  Seriously? Curfew isn’t even until 10:30. And I’m still on pacific time, which means it’s only 6:00 at home. I change into a pair of shorts and a sweatshirt, then text my mom real quick.

  Me: So, I’m doing good. Today went good.

  Mom: Any cute boys?

  Me: Mom, I’m here to get an education, remember? Figure out me?

  Mom: But, still.

  Me: Yes, I have met some cute boys. One that is so good looking, he should be in your next movie. He’s like the God of all Hotties.

  Mom: Did you talk to this hottie?

  Me: Yeah, he asked me to go the dance with him tomorrow, but I said no.

  Mom: WHY!!!????

  Me: Cuz he’s apparently a player.

  Mom: Players can be fun. Tommy was a player before he met me, just saying. (Um, Abby, this may not be the best motherly advice in the world. Just saying. But she’s right. Players can be fun. *Until you get played.)

  Me: I’ll keep that in mind. Love you!

  Mom: Love you, more!

  I turn on my lamp on and shine it at my bare wall. I’m ready to hang up the main decor for my side of my room.

  It’s a 14 foot by 10 foot poster of the ocean. Brooklyn’s dad was laying on the sand when he took the photo that we had blown up and mounted. There’s a heart drawn in the sand in front of him, which I never noticed in the small photo he showed me. Written in it is B + K.

  I start to get tears in my eyes, but I keep working on getting it hung up anyways. I turn the main light on and appraise it. My roommate moans and pulls the covers over her head.

  It looks fantastic. It’s the ocean right out in front of my house, and there’s a big wave coming into shore and way out in the distance is me and Brooklyn, the wave just starting to curl over us.

  I sit on my bed and stare at it. Feel homesick. Decide to make my bed. I have my poster hung, my bed made, and am about to start unpacking clothes, and possibly call Brooklyn.

  My phone vibrates.

  I have a text message from someone called, The love of my life <3

  The love of my life <3:where are you?

  Me: who is this?

  The love of my life <3:Dallas, duh:)

  Me: thats not what it says in my phone

  The love of my life <3:) come meet me outside your dorm.

  Me: I was gonna unpack.

  The love of my life <3You can do that after curfew, come on.

  Me: you talked me into it :)

  So I go.

  I figure it’s all the boys out there. We’ll probably go kick around a soccer ball or something, but when I get out there, I see it’s just Dallas.

  He gives me a naughty grin.

  “What? Why do you look like we’re about to do something that could get us both in trouble?”

  He really is a cutie. And really does remind me of a young Brooklyn.

  He opens his hand and shows me a neatly rolled joint.

  “Wanna join me?”

  “Uh, yeah. But where? I don’t want to get in trouble my first day.”

  I already got the scoop on where to go, come on. He grabs my hand, which for some strange reason feels very natural, and we walk hand in hand behind my dorm and into some woods I hadn’t noticed before. There’s a skinny, but well worn path that we follow, and pretty soon, we are in a well hidden clearing. I smell the unmistakeable smell of weed, and know it’s not just me and Dallas that are gonna get a little baked.

  There is a group of about eight guys sitting in the clearing on a bunch of downed tree logs. And just one girl, Peyton.

  At first, I’m a bit nervous because she is like my group leader. I don’t want to get in trouble, but then the gorgeous dark haired boy (Hello, Dawson!) she was sitting with at lunch passes her a joint, and she expertly takes a hit.

  Guess she won’t get me into trouble.

  Dallas still is holding my hand and leads me over to the other side of the little circle. We sit down on some logs. He lights up and passes it to me.

  A tall brown haired guy, with really massive arm muscles and kind of a beaky nose walks over to us. Dallas stands up, says, “Hey, Ace.”

  “Thought we told you freshman aren’t supposed to be back here.” He says freshman like it’s a dirty word.

  I smile at Ace, who is looking me up and down very predatorily. Specifically at my long, tanned legs. I kinda don’t like it.

  Dallas is super smooth though, I’m impressed.

  I hand him back the joint. He takes a big hit and blows the smoke out toward Ace’s face and says, “Chill, dude. We won’t bother you. Just wanted some place to smoke, so we won’t get caught.”

  But Ace is probably the asshole in the group and clearly hasn’t smoked yet. He is way too uptight. Dallas hands me back the joint, so I hand it out to Ace, toss my hair a little and then smile at Ace seductively, “Here, we’ll even share.”

  Ace appraises me, takes a hit, mellows a bit, then hands me back the joint and says, “What the fuck, with legs like that, you can come here anytime.”

  I nod a thank you.

  And thankfully, Ace goes and sits back down with his friends.

  Dallas and I are smoking and giggling about Riley and all the corny things he said trying to impress me. And then I remember the hottie god. I tell Dallas, “So first he is telling me how he’s this sensitive guy, then he said I look like his next girlfriend. And I can’t help it, it’s not just the weed, I mean him telling me that was like classic. Something for the movies. How NOT to impress a girl.” I’m leaning against Dallas and having a bit of a giggle fit, when Dallas pokes my side. I look up

  And there standing in front of me, not giggling, is the God of all Hotties himself.

  Oh shit. Busted.

  I don’t know what to say.

  I go with, “Uh, hey, um, Aiden, right?”

  He nods and walks away.

  Dallas and I giggle some more.

  And somehow, when our heads are together laughing, Dallas starts kissing me. And Dallas is a surprisingly good kisser.

  Like really good.

  He’s definitely had some practice. And I start to wonder what else he has done and how good he might be at it.

  Friday, August 26th
/>   A Perfect Four Leaf Clover

  7:30am

  Up early, ready for a full day. Even though my body is saying, Keatyn, it’s 4:30am at home, please go back to bed.

  But I can’t. I’m too excited. (So am I! I want to go to Eastbrooke!)

  This morning is when we meet our student leaders for the school tour, pointers, etc. I think this is where I will see Peyton.

  I walk into the gym, and we break up into our groups. Our group is all girls, and Peyton is excitedly talking to us about the dance, about all the different clubs, about things like curfews, visiting the boys dorms, places the boys like to hang out. I find it all very useful.

  I do notice that not once in all that does she mention the smoking spot we were at last night.

  Then she leads us to the “cafe”, which is what they call the dining hall, where booths have been set up for each activity, so you can learn about and sign up to be in clubs, activities, and sports tryouts. All the extra curricular activities are represented.

  I sign up for student council, checking the box that says I'm interested in running for office. Peyton says, “Leadership material, good girl.”

  I sign up for french club, spirit club, latin club, circle of friends, which looks kinda dumb, but I figured worse case, I meet some more people. Oh, and of course, soccer tryouts.

  Peyton asks me if I might be interested in dance team.

  “Could I do both that and soccer?”

  “Sure you can. I’m captain of both teams. I’m also student council secretary, president of the french club, founded the literary club and am on the highly coveted social committee. Something you are hand selected to join. Something you would probably be good at beings you were the first girl to discover the cave.”

  “The cave?”

  “The place you were at last night.” She has that keep it on the down low look in her eyes. I nod. Got it.

  She signs me up for literary club because I told her I love to read, and then she says, “Come on, try out for dance. We have three spots for freshman, and so far only fifteen girls have signed up. Your odds are pretty good. Plus, you have the body of a dancer. Do you dance?”