by Jillian Dodd
We decide that Aiden is a jerk, and Peyton and Whitney are dumb. Then we go to dinner in the café together.
After dinner, I’m giggling as he tries to feed me bites of his messy brownie sundae.
Some hot fudge drips down over my lip and then, right in front of Whitney, he slowly licks it off and kisses me.
Tuesday, August 30th
Lick hot fudge off you.
lunch
I love the uniform combination I picked for today. I know I look different, but it makes me feel confident. And when the most popular girl at school already hates you, confidence is a good thing. I’m wearing the plaid skort with a show-stoppingly gorgeous cream Dolce & Gabbana contrasting lace top. Cream burnout over-the-knee socks. Short red cowboy boots. Brooks Brothers red rose stud earrings. Little red fringe handbag.
Aiden taps me on the shoulder. He’s standing behind me in the lunch line and says in a snotty voice, “Can I lick hot fudge off you too?”
What a jerk. “Naw, I think I have that taken care of, but thanks.”
“You’re such a liar.”
I turn around to face him. “I am not a liar!”
“Don’t give me that shit. You told me you just kissed him, and you aren’t just kissing him.”
“Yes. I swear.”
I heard you in his room yesterday after you ran away from me at the track.”
“What, are you following me now?”
“That’s beside the point. Still, I heard you. All Oh, oh, that feels so good. Please don’t stop. And then him saying, I’ll do it for as long as you want, baby.”
He has a very condescending voice when he says this to me, like he’s mad and making fun of me at the same time.
“What are you even talking about?”
“You had sex with him. Don’t lie to me.”
“I did not. And if I was going to have sex with him, which I certainly could do if I chose to, it wouldn’t be when I was all sweaty and gross. You have no common sense.”
“Then what was he doing that was Just what I needed and that feels so good?”
I put my hand up to the side of my head and say, “I don’t remember saying that.”
I think.
“Oh, wait! He was rubbing my temples. Because I was stressed. About you!”
“He was rubbing your temples. Yeah, sure he was.”
“Come here.” I grab his arm and drag him over to where Dawson’s sitting. Unfortunately, Whitney and crew are sitting there too. But fuck it. I don’t care.
“Dawson. When I was in your room yesterday lying on your bed, I told you, Oh that feels sooo good and please, don’t stop.” I even say it the way I said it yesterday, closed eyes, lowered, dreamy voice. “What were you doing to me?”
Tyrese interrupts and is like, “Damn, girl, I don’t know what he was doing to you, but the way you just said it got me all hot and bothered.”
I roll my eyes at him.
Jake is like, “Yeah, Dawes, what were you doing to her?”
Dawson moves his chin slightly to the left and winces one eye. I can tell he’s trying to decide if he should tell the truth or make up something good.
I plead with my eyes. “Tell him the truth. Please.”
Dawson rolls his eyes. “I was rubbing her head, like this.” He puts his hands up to his temples and rubs.
I drop Aiden’s arm. “See! God, you’re dumb!”
Whitney leans over and runs her hand across Jake’s chest. Like it will somehow lessen the effect of what just happened. And I know exactly what happened. She’s pissed. And she’s more pissed than she would’ve been if Dawson and I had sex. If we did have sex, she could say he’s just using me. Rubbing one’s temples suggests something more intimate. It suggests friendship. Something I think they never had.
Shit.
But guess what? I don’t freaking care what she thinks. I’ve had enough of her nasty stares and Aiden’s stupid accusations.
I put my hand on Dawson’s shoulder, lean down, and say in his ear, “Let’s get outta here,” and drag him out of the café with me.
He’s laughing at me, while I’m marching and dragging him madly behind me.
“You’re pretty sexy when you’re pissed. Come sit down.”
We sit on a bench under a big maple tree. He casually lays his arm across the back of the bench. “What did he say that set you off? And was he actually listening outside my door?”
“He asked if he could lick hot fudge off my face too. And yes, he was.”
“Licking hot fudge off you was fun. He’s jealous.”
“He’s dumb.”
Dawson leans in toward me, slowly pushes my hair back off my face, looks into my eyes, and then glances down at my mouth. “Well, I’m not.”
And he slowly kisses me.
We sit on the bench, the sun filtering through the leaves and feeling warm on my legs, and kiss for the rest of lunch.
I almost passed out.
French
Aiden is sitting behind me, burning holes into the back of my head with his mad eyes. As the class is chatting about what French film we’d like to watch on Friday, Annie, the girl who sits just to the right of me, touches my arm and says, “I saw you kissing Dawson on the bench today. I was out taking pictures for my photography class, and you two looked so cute. He is so hot.” She fans herself.
She’s a cute girl, but you have to look close to notice. She has delicate bone structure, a perky nose, and a gorgeous creamy complexion. But her hair needs serious help. Someone needs to teach the girl how to use a straightener and some glossing cream. Right now her hair is frizzy and totally overwhelming her face.
I giggle. “He is really hot.”
“Does he kiss good?” she giggles back.
And I swear, I feel a laser shot to the back of my skull.
He hates this, but I don’t care. It’s not my fault he doesn’t like me enough to text me.
I lean toward Anne, grab a strand of my hair and twirl it around my finger. “That was the first time we, like, really kissed, but, yes, he is a good kisser.” I speak in a very girly version of my voice, one I rarely use. It has that dreamy quality. I laugh, lower my voice, and tell her conspiratorially, “He licked hot fudge off the edge of my lip last night.” I even point to the spot. “And then he kissed me. It was the most ah-dorable thing ever.”
I gush. And I realize that I’m not gushing just to piss Aiden off. I did like it, and it was pretty damn adorable.
I liked kissing him today too.
Very surprising.
Considering that a few days ago I considered him the Worst Kisser Ever.
“You’re so lucky. He is the cutest senior, for sure. Probably the best-looking guy in the whole school. Um, I hope this doesn’t sound stalkerish, but you were so cute that I photographed you.”
I try not to let my face go white when she says it. I try not to think about the photos Vincent took of me when I wasn’t looking. But I can see each one of them flashing across my mind.
I steady my voice and try to say something normal. “I’d like to see the pictures.” I make my voice sound giddy at the prospect.
She gets all excited. “I’ll bring my laptop tomorrow and show you them.”
I hear Aiden mutter from behind me, “Can’t wait.”
Just as class is about to end I ask her, “Hey, are you going to the freshman football game tonight?”
“Probably not,” she says. “My friends never want to go.”
“You should come with me. You can meet my roommate, Katie. And we’re meeting Dawson and Riley and some other people.”
Aiden growls, “You have a threesome date? You, Dawson, and Riley. I mean, you’ve kissed them both. Isn’t that kind of weird for them?”
“I’ve never kissed Riley, but if I had, it wouldn’t have meant anything.” I turn around and look straight at him. “Kinda like our kisses.”
Annie’s eyes get big as saucers.
Aiden storms ahead of me out
the door, while Annie grabs my arm. “So, wait, you’ve kissed Dawson and Aiden? You’ve only been at school for a few days!”
I nod my head.
“Oh my gosh,” she giggles. “I want your life. Or at least a boyfriend.”
“Come with me tonight. We’ll find you someone cute to kiss.”
“What happened with you and Aiden? I swear, he is so hot. When he first sat down behind us yesterday, I held my breath until I almost passed out.”
“He is hot. Honestly, I’m, like, in love with him, but he’s either been wildly romantic and amazing or a total jerk, so I gave up. I don’t need my heart stomped on. Not when there are so many other cute boys around.”
“That’s why I take French. I want to go to Paris, meet a sexy French guy, and live happily ever after.”
“You’re a hopeless romantic, aren’t you? The photos, French.”
She laughs nervously. “Kinda.”
"L'amour est la poésie des sens."
“Oh my gosh, that sounds so pretty when you say it. You speak French good. What does it mean?”
“You don’t know?”
“Well, I know that l’amour is love, but no, I don’t know the rest.”
“It means, “Love is the poetry of the senses.” Some French poet said it. I can’t remember his name. So, meet me at the bench at seven, and we’ll walk down to the game together. Actually, on second thought, come to my dorm room. Pennington 6B. At, like, 6:30.”
“Cool,” she says, and then breezes off.
Evil inner zen.
Soccer
Coach makes the actual announcements of who is on what team. I did make Varsity, but she also tells us that since the actual season isn’t until spring things could change. Which means I’ll be working out with Peyton twice every day. At least Whitney isn’t in dance or soccer.
We’re doing some running drills on the track that surrounds the football field, where the football team is also practicing.
Aiden runs alongside me for a few seconds, going out for a pass, and it reminds me of how cute he was on Saturday with the points for dances thing.
But then I think about what a jerk he can be. I know it was kinda bitchy when I talked about Dawson in front of him, but he brings it out in me.
He infuriates me.
I swear, no one has ever made my blood boil like he does.
Later, when I’m sitting on the track, stretching my legs out after practice, I can’t help but stare at him. Unfortunately, he catches me and holds my eyes with that power he has. My mind is screaming, Look away! Look away. But it’s too late; I can’t. I just stare into those eyes. Those deep green eyes that are too far away to see the color, but I can still recall every fleck of blue, the little golden line around the edges.
Luckily, Dallas steps in front of me and sits down, breaking the god’s spell. I see his wrist is bandaged up.
“What’d you do?”
“I dunno, sprained my wrist, broke it maybe. If it’s not better tomorrow, I’ll have to get it x-rayed.
“Does it hurt bad?”
“Not too bad. Hey, you wanna sneak out to the cave tonight, just us? Look at the stars again? I’m feeling stressed.”
“Why are you feeling stressed? Because you’re in pain?”
“No, cuz your evil inner zen is corrupting me. And I’ve had a very stressful day trying to perfect my ability to predict the color of a girl’s panties. I also may have got slapped a couple times when I tried to prove my theories, but that is the life of a visionary.”
I laugh. “You’re so funny. And you don’t seem the least bit stressed.”
“I’m not, really, I just want us to hang. I feel like I haven’t talked to you in forever.”
“It’s been a day.”
He nods his head, “Like I said, it’s been too long. Don’t think just cause you have your little thing with Dawson you can ditch me.”
“Fine. Can we go after the game is over?”
“No. Be there at the stroke of midnight. I vant to suck your blood.” He does a vampire imitation.
“Vampires can be out before midnight—haven’t you seen Twilight?”
“Yeah, but you know, you catch me in the sun and my brilliance will be too dazzling for you to handle.”
“It’s sunny right now.”
“And you’re dazzled, right?”
Best friend love sucks.
6:30pm
Katie and I do an extreme makeover on Annie’s hair. Then I put her adorable, petite, and way-too-covered-up figure in one of Katie’s tight little school T-shirts instead of the big oversized one she was wearing. She’s nervous that it’s too tight, so I tell her what my mom says. You can have all the brains in the world, but it takes a body to get most men’s attention.
I throw on a pair of jean shorts with a little black tank top that says Wild about Cougars in clear and gold rhinestones and my black Koolaburra boots.
Dawson is waiting outside my dorm, sitting on the short brick wall that surrounds the grounds.
“Hey, cutie, I just texted you,” he says and gives me a sweet kiss on the cheek. He holds my hand as we walk over to his dorm.
“Sorry, we were busy trying to get beautiful.”
He looks at the three of us and says, “Mission accomplished.”
I introduce him to Annie, but he says, “I know Annie. We had a photography class together last semester. You still taking your amazing photos? You were by far the most talented one in our class.”
Annie beams, and I giggle. “She was out taking pics today, actually, and took a few of us, um, sitting on the bench at lunch.”
“You mean kissing on the bench at lunch?”
“Well, yeah.”
He turns to Annie. “I wanna see those, okay?”
She nods her head. She looks really cute. And I’m thinking about who I could try and set her up with.
But when we get to the dorm and Riley, Bryce, Tyrese, and Ace walk out, I notice Ace totally looking her over. So I decide to not play matchmaker and let nature take its course.
And nature is taking its course. Ace, who I thought was sorta a douche, really, is acting like a well-mannered guy and talking to her about Greek Mythology.
And I can’t help it.
That makes me think of the god I know personally.
I’m definitely texting my mom tonight to see if she has some advice. I know she won’t sleep tonight. She can never sleep before she leaves to go on location.
Dawson is sitting on the bleacher behind me, and I’m comfortably leaning back between his legs. He runs a finger down my arm and whispers in my ear. “You have leopard print on your shirt. That mean you have on the leopard bra I wanna see?”
“Maybe.”
“Grrrrr,” he purrs softly in my ear.
I’m shocked by how immediately turned on I feel by this.
“Can I see it tonight?”
“Hmmm. I don’t know. Leopards are pretty wild—you up for that?” I tease.
He plants a kiss just under my ear and whispers, “I am.”
I turn around to face him. “Dawson, we need to talk. About Whitney. About what you’re thinking.”
“I’m really not thinking about her anymore. You seem to have me captivated.”
“We were going to find you a suitable girl to date. That girl was not supposed to be me.”
“Are we dating?”
“No, I just meant—you know what I mean. Don’t give me shit.”
“Maybe we should be.”
“Should be what?”
“Dating.”
“No way.”
“Aw, come on. Why not?”
“You told me three days ago that you're still in love with her.”
“Oh yeah, that.”
“Yeah, that. If I’m gonna date a guy, I want him to like me, not be wishing I was someone else.”
“Still. You're fun, and I really haven't thought about her much the last couple days.”
“Then y
ou’re making progress.”
“And how’s your progress going?”
I sigh. “He used his special powers to stare at me today.”
“You have it bad for him, don’t you?”
I look back at Dawson, who is gorgeous, and think, no, I don’t. Why would I want a stupid player boy, who will do nothing but break my heart, when I have sweet Gorgeous sitting here next to me? I’m going to help heal his broken heart, remake his image, and then I’m going to keep him for myself.
I grab the front of his shirt and pull him into a kiss. It’s the first time I have ever initiated a kiss with him.
Then I say, “I think I’m making progress too.”
At halftime, Riley plops down next to us. “Oh. My. Gosh. She’s driving me freaking nuts!”
“Audrey?” both Dawson and I ask.
“Yes. Fine. We hooked up. That doesn’t mean I want to be tied to her for the rest of my life.”
“It’s been three days.” I laugh at Riley’s drama.
“It feels like a lifetime.”
“I sure hope you used a condom, bro, or it might be.” Dawson slaps him on the back.
“Well, that’s one thing you taught me. Thank God!”
“You should be flattered,” I say. “You must have been good, and she wants more of you.”
“Honestly, it was not good. I repulse myself.”
“Dude, it’s about quality, not quantity,” Dawson says.
“Oh, you’re one to talk. What was it you called the beach this summer? Your whoredom?”
“Shut up,” he snarls.
“Like your kingdom, only your whoredom? Oh, that’s cute,” I tease.
“I was brokenhearted, what can I say?”
“Well, I don’t really care about that. Just tell me how to get rid of her! Seriously, she meets me after class, walks me to my next class, shows up at my room and leaves cookies. Dallas won’t eat them. He’s afraid she drugged them or something.”
“My little bro has a stalker, how cute is that?”
Dawson laughs. I don’t.
But then I know that stalking is really not a laughing matter.
“You’re not helping, either one of you,” Riley complains.