by Jillian Dodd
He asked me to go to dinner tonight, so I threw on a pair of cute white shorts, a little tank top, and some short boots. When I opened the front door, I was shocked to see him dressed up in a pair of chestnut dress slacks and a soft khaki polo.
“You look really nice,” I tell him. And he does. His light brown hair has been trimmed, taming his curls. His face is tan and handsome, and his eyes look super blue. “Why are you all dressed up? I thought we were just grabbing some dinner.”
“We’re celebrating. You better go change.” He gives me a devious little smirk. Like he knows a secret.
“What are we celebrating?”
“Since when have you ever turned down the chance to get dressed up?”
I laugh. “Probably never.”
He grabs my hand and leads me back to my bedroom and into my closet. “You sit. I’m going to pick something out.”
I don’t sit. I stand close to him. Look into his eyes. Knock on his head. “He looks like my Brooklyn, but I don’t think it’s really him. It’s like aliens swapped his brain for someone else’s.”
He pulls me in for a kiss. Then he walks me backward toward my chair and makes me sit.
“I thought you’d like this.”
“Oh, I do. That doesn’t mean I’m not shocked.”
He looks around my closet. “You have a hell of a lot of clothes.”
“Um, maybe?”
“Point me toward the dresses.”
I point to a long rack behind him. “The casual ones are there. The formal ones are behind the tall cabinet doors.”
He starts flipping through the rack of casual dresses. “A lot of these still have the tags on them.”
“Yeah, well, I bought some summer stuff, but then I wasn’t home all summer. Pick something with a tag, please. I feel like wearing something new.”
He pulls out a really short black Chantilly lace dress. One that I’m shocked he would want me to wear. I bought it for the club. “Put this on.”
“Um, okay. It’s kinda tight. Short.”
He grins. “Yes, that’s why I like it.”
“You’re acting weird. I’m scared.”
I strip off my clothes, switch bras, and pull the dress over my curves. “Told you. It’s tight.”
He stands back, sizing me up. Then he grabs my hips and runs his hands across my ass.
“It’s been a while,” I say. I’m kinda embarrassed to say that we haven’t had sex in almost two weeks. We were too busy fighting.
“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry. I was a dick. I was just stressed with some other stuff that was going on with my dad.” He waves his hand dismissively. “I’ll tell you all about it at dinner.”
I grab a pair of copper-colored high-heeled sandals and then stop in front of my jewelry drawers, where I grab a big black ring and a rose quartz bracelet to class it up a little.
We walk out my front door, and I’m shocked to see his dad’s Bentley sitting in the driveway.
I feel like I just stepped into the Twilight Zone.
He opens the door for me, I slide in, and we drive up the coast.
He takes me to a very nice restaurant on the water—one of my absolute favorites, and the kind of expensive place that he usually avoids.
Ohmigawd! Could this be it? Is he finally going to ask me to be his girlfriend!?
I’m so excited that I barely eat my blackened salmon, asparagus, and baby new potatoes.
I imagine what he’s going to say to me. Imagine him giving me a ring or a lock of his hair or something personal and dreamy.
After dessert, he starts to look nervous.
Oh my gosh! Here we go!!
“So this summer was amazing, Keats. It was such an incredible experience.”
I grab his hand across the table and squeeze it. “I know. It was for me too. I’ll never forget it.”
“So, I’ve been thinking about doing this for a while now . . . ”
OMG! I want to scream with joy!
“So, I’m finally going to do it. I’m going on the pro tour.”
Wait. What? He’s not asking me out?
“You’re going where?”
He gets a huge happy grin on his face. “A couple weeks ago, I told my dad how much I enjoyed our time at all the different surf spots. What an amazing experience it was. All the cool people we met. I’ve committed to doing the tour for a year. If, at the end of the year, I’m ranked top ten or so, then I’ll think about continuing. If not, I’ll come back home and figure out my next move. Dad says I’ll only be young once, so I should take the opportunity. That it’s a once-in-a-lifetime experience.”
“You’ll be gone for a year?” I ask incredulously. Because he’s not asking me to go out with him. He’s leaving me.
He goes on and on about the waves he surfed and how they varied, but I’m not really listening.
All I keep thinking is He’s leaving me for a year.
“You’re the reason I’m doing all this, you know?”
I shake my head and squint my eyes. I really have no clue what the hell he’s talking about.
“You’re the one that talked me into taking the summer off and touring some of the world’s great surf spots. You’re the one who told me I should follow my dreams wherever they take me. ”
“I said that?”
When the hell did I say it?
And had I been drinking? Was I high?
He rubs his finger across the top of my hand. “Of course you said it. Because you’re amazing. And Dad took the ball and ran with it. He’s already got sponsors lined up for me. So, I’m actually going to do it. Live my dream. Can you believe it?”
“No, not really,” I say flatly.
“You don’t seem very excited.”
I try to brighten my face. I don’t think I succeed. “I’m thrilled for you, B. Really. When do you leave?”
“It’s kinda still up in the air. We’ll talk about it after your birthday. I have some fun stuff planned for your birthday.”
This excites me. “You do? Really?” He’s not really the planning type.
“Yep. Thursday, you’re mine. You said your family thing is Friday night, right?”
“Yeah, dinner will be fun. And Saturday night, we’ll have a blast. We’ll be dancing. Partying. I can’t wait!”
“Um, would you be mad if I didn’t go Saturday?”
I can barely breathe. Is he serious? “You don’t want to come to my party?”
“I’d think that after London you’d know the answer to that. Besides, we’ll have done tons of celebrating by then.”
“Uh, okay.” I don’t even know what to say to that. “You’ll come to the after-party at my house, though, right? I invited all the surfers. I thought it would be so cool for my school friends to meet your friends.” He looks at me like I’m certifiably insane. “You don’t think they’ll get along?”
“Oh they’ll get along. Like oil and water.”
“I guess I’m more optimistic than you are.”
He pays our tab, and we walk out to the car.
I start to get tears in my eyes and choke out the words I’ve been wondering. “Are you breaking up with me?”
He laughs. “I didn’t realize we were going out.”
My face drops and the tears start falling. I turn away from him.
He grabs my shoulders and turns me back around.
“I haven’t thought through all the details yet.”
“That’s worse. I wasn’t even a consideration.”
“Keats, sometimes in life you have to do what’s right for you and hope that your friends will support you. This is right for me. And don’t cry. It all came about very suddenly. And you start school soon. You’ll be so busy with all the things you want to do, you’ll barely have time to miss me. We’ll figure something out. We’ll be fine, Keats.” He hangs his head and says quietly. “I thought you’d be so excited for me. I got all dressed up and even splurged on your favorite expensive restaurant.”
&n
bsp; I look up at him. I don’t even care that I probably look frightening with mascara dripping down my face. “I thought you were going to ask me to go out with you; instead you tell me you’re leaving me for a year. I am excited for you. I really am. I’m just not very excited for me.”
He pulls me into his arms. “I’m not going to be gone all the time. I’ll be home some. And you can come visit me.”
“Have a long distance relationship? You told Troy those never work. That he and his girlfriend would never make it through his European tour. And that’s only a four-month tour. You’ll become a celebrity like Damian. Girls will be throwing their panties at you. You’ll be half way around the world and you’ll forget all about me.”
“I’m never going to forget about you. Ever. You’ll always be my friend, and I’m pretty sure I’ll always love you.”
I lean forward and kiss him. “I’m pretty sure I’ll always love you too.”
“Good. We’ll figure out the rest soon.”
When we get back to my house, I pull him into my room and lock the door.
“Thanks for dinner. I’m sorry I didn’t act excited when you told me. I was just shocked. I do think you should do it. Your dad is right. You’re done with school. You aren’t working. You’re young. Now’s the time to do it.”
He nods his head, pulls me onto the bed, and kisses me.
Wednesday, August 17th
I mean, hell, no.
1pm
Today I’m sitting by the pool at an exclusive hotel with Vanessa and RiAnne. They called me late last night, told me they had a room and to get my ass over here. So I did.
Brooklyn had already left. He told me I looked amazing in my dress, how horny it made him, and kissed me, but we didn’t have sex. He said he was tired and he didn’t think he should spend the night. Which I really don’t understand. How can you ever be too tired for sex?
I was a little worried that things might be awkward with Vanessa and RiAnne, but they weren’t. We drank champagne, gossiped, and watched the latest Twilight movie. It was surprisingly fun, and Vanessa was surprisingly sweet. This morning we got ourselves all done up and went downstairs for brunch.
Now we’re lying by the pool.
Lying by the pool here, I look much different than when Brooklyn and I laid on the beach in Europe. For one, I look good. My hair is blown out and straightened to perfection. I’m wearing burnished gold earrings that match my gold printed Melissa Odabash triangle bikini, gold bangles on my wrists, a Free People Amalia stone drop collar necklace, my most expensive tortoiseshell aviator sunglasses, and adorable thick-strapped Ralph Lauren sandals.
I feel fantastic. Like my old self. Brooklyn would laugh if he saw me now. I wish he could appreciate my love of clothes a little more. When we’re anywhere near a beach, our relationship is perfect, but when we went on tour with Damian, it wasn’t anything close to perfect.
He laughed at my split ends for God’s sake! Shouldn’t he know that’s not a laughing matter?
Isn’t that kind of like telling a girl her butt does look big when she asks?
You just don’t do it.
I’m not sure what to think about his news last night. I am happy for him. I do want him to pursue his dreams. I just didn’t imagine they would take him away from me.
“Whatcha doing?” RiAnne says to Vanessa, breaking my thoughts.
“I’m texting both Marcus and Rodney. I can’t decide which one I want more. I mean, they’re both hot.”
“Rodney? The short lacrosse player?”
“Oh, Keatyn, you’ve been gone for too long. Rodney grew this summer. He’s a hunky six foot two and has abs to die for. Wait until you see him. He’ll be one of the hottest guys at school this year. And if he’s dating me, well, we know what that will do for his popularity.”
“You should bring him then. Marcus is a jerk.” I turn toward RiAnne. “Who are you bringing, Ri?”
RiAnne lowers her head and shakes it. “I don’t have a date yet.”
“Just ask someone . . . ” I start to say, but Vanessa interrupts me.
“In case you can’t tell, she’s in a funk. I would be too if I’d put on six pounds this summer.”
RiAnne’s eyes get huge then she crosses her arms angrily and pouts.
Vanessa says to RiAnne, “What? Like she hasn’t already noticed on her own? You’re in a bikini.” Then she turns to me. “But you, girl, you’re looking fine. Tan. Fit. Thin. Living on sex, drugs, and rock and roll seems to suit you. Wait. Is that why you’re so happy? You and Damian finally hook up? I mean, I know he’s a director’s son and loaded and all, but he was just playing in dive bars, and now that song about some girl’s eyes is really getting popular. Having him as a boyfriend would be even bigger than Sander. Although, I will admit, when I dated the college guy last year, it kinda sucked not having a bf at school. There’s something to be said for having the hottest accessory of all on your arm.”
I think about the song. The song Damian wrote about how my eyes look when I’m with Brooklyn. Our song. The song he finished recently and quickly released as a single. I need to tell them about Brooklyn. About how I’m bringing him to my party. About how I want them to accept him. I open my mouth to speak.
Vanessa holds her hand up at me. “Hold that thought. RiAnne, take our picture. Get our hot bikini bodies, please.”
RiAnne backs up and takes a few pics and gets Vanessa’s approval. “Perfect. Post that to Facebook and Twitter. Be sure to tag us. Everyone loved our pajama party photos from last night.”
Of course they did. Vanessa was in a teeny black negligee, leaning forward, so that you could see most of her boobs, while I poured champagne into her mouth straight from the bottle. The guys had some specific comments about what kinds of pictures they’d like to see next.
RiAnne nods, fiddles with her phone, and uploads the pics. She’s still pouting, and I don’t blame her. Vanessa didn’t want her in the picture. She finishes with her phone, pops another strawberry in her mouth, and summons the waiter. “I want a burger, well-done, french fries, and a side of ranch.”
Vanessa shakes her head. “She’ll have the cottage cheese plate, please. You can bring the burger and fries to Miss I’m-Back-in-America-After-An-Amazing-Summer-Touring-With-a-Rock-Band.”
“I wasn’t with the band the whole time,” I admit. “I was with Brooklyn all summer. We’re, like, in love. It was the most amazing summer of my life.”
RiAnne says, “Aww, Keatyn, I’m so happy for—”
Vanessa cuts her off again. “Are we talking about the surfer?”
I nod my head.
“No.”
“What do you mean, no?”
“I mean, hell, no. Do you know how hard I worked this summer while you were off playing around? It’s fine if you want to play in the gutter. It’s fine to have a summer fling with the lifeguard. It’s expected. Everyone slums in the summer.”
“Brooklyn is hardly a lifeguard. For God’s sake, his dad is worth like a hundred million.”
Vanessa waves her hand at me. “Okay, whatever. But you're taking Cush to your party, right?”
“No, I’m not. I haven’t talked to him all summer. I don’t even know if he’s coming.”
“He needs to be your date. After what happened with Mandy, you need to show everyone that you’re still together.”
“But we’re not together.”
“You will be once he gets back. Everyone knows you broke up for the summer, because he had to go to his dad’s. But people still expect you to get back together. You’ll be an even bigger couple than you and Sander were. I mean, seriously, you can feel the chemistry you two have together. Use the party to lock that boy down.”
RiAnne is nodding her head in agreement.
“The party is obviously going to be badass,” Vanessa continues, “but the after-party is key. I've been tweaking the guest list all summer.” She grabs her phone. “I’m emailing you the list now. You can forward it to your peopl
e.”
My people. As in Kym, who is practically part of the family. This is it. This is where I have to stand up to her. I have to set the right tone for this year. We can be friends, but she isn’t going to tell me what to do. Or who I can date.
“I already have the list of who I'm inviting. It's going to be all my favorite people. The party can be about being popular, but the after-party is gonna be different. The reason I was acting so weird last spring after I broke up with Sander is because I felt like I was living two separate lives. Like I have to act and look and be a certain way when I’m with you. And then I’m completely different with the surfers. I invited all my surfer friends to the after-party and all my best friends from school. I want you to get to know each other. It would mean a lot to me if you would get to know Brooklyn. And, who knows, you might just fall for a surfer yourself. Mark is really cute and so is—”
RiAnne’s face brightens at the thought of a new pool of boys.
Vanessa chomps down on her back teeth. I can tell she’s trying hard to control her temper. “It will never work. And did you not learn your lesson with Mandy? I know it’s been a long summer of surfing, sex, and weed. You relaxed, had fun. It messed with your brain.”
“It didn’t mess with my brain. I love him, and I don’t care what you or anyone else thinks.”
“So you’re going out with him? You’re in a relationship with him? Because I haven’t seen it on Facebook. No one has. Because it’s not there. It was a summer fling. Now, it’s back to reality.”
“Uh, well no, we’re not officially going out. And he told me last night that he’s sort of leaving for a year to go on the pro surfing tour, so I’m not sure what that means exactly as far as our relationship goes.”
Vanessa snorts out a laugh. “You don’t know what that means? Are you fucking blind? It means he already knows it’s over. You need to be with Cush. I didn’t tell you, because I was pissed at you, but you and Cush are good together. Like seriously. Popularity aside. He’s good for you. He wants to make you happy. You should let him.”
“I’m not blind, okay? I just don’t know what it all means.”
“Use your brain, Keatyn,” Vanessa says.