The Keatyn Chronicles: Books 1-3: (Stalk Me, Kiss Me, and Date Me)

by Jillian Dodd

  A bunch of us girls are in Katie’s and my room getting ready to go to the JV game. We’re all giggling and laughing.

  I’m all ready. I left my boots, tank, and shirt on, but changed into little jean shorts. And, I will admit, I’m sorta sitting here thinking about Aiden. Tutoring him has been good for me. I’m getting to know him and he’s been nicer recently. Not behaving like the smooth player that he was always trying to be. We haven’t had a fight in almost a week.

  He mentioned in class that the team they’re playing tonight is the best in our conference, and that he hopes he and the team play really well.

  I get an idea, so I dig down to the bottom of my desk drawer. Mom forced me to bring high quality writing paper, so I could write a decent thank you if needed.

  I grab a piece of the thick creamy paper and a green marker. I fold the paper in half and then write inside.

  And then I draw a big, green four-leaf clover on the front and outline it with black marker.

  I tell the girls, “Hey, I gotta run to the dance room and grab my, uh, socks. I’ll be right back.”

  Then I run out the door and text Aiden.

  Me: Where are you?

  Hottie God: Locker room. Where do you want me to be?

  Me: Somewhere where I can give you something.

  Hottie God: Walking out of the field house now. Meet me.

  Me: Okay :)

  I sprint—well, jog—as fast as I can in my boots and see him standing outside the field house. He’s got on his football pads and jersey, but is still wearing his athletic shorts.

  God, he is just beautiful.

  Scratch what I said before about him being a normal boy. He is so not.

  “Boots are pretty cute with shorts too,” he grins, looking at my shorts.

  “Thanks. Uh, well, I know you seemed a little nervous about the game tonight and um, I just . . .”

  When the hell did I get so tongue-tied?

  “Just what?”

  “Well, here.” I hold the little note out in front of me.

  “What’s this?”

  “I don’t know. It’s a note. Some luck, maybe. Just look at it, I don’t know, sometime before the game, maybe.”

  “Not now?”

  “Um, up you.”

  “You know, Boots, you’re acting very weird.”

  “I am very weird.”

  He laughs. “True. Okay, so I have to get back in there.” He holds up the note. “Thanks, I think.”

  I walk back to my dorm, wondering what the hell I just did.

  Then I tell myself that I don’t really want to dance with him again or anything.

  I’m a dancer.

  I’m one of the people chosen to help spread school spirit and support our athletes.

  I was just wishing him luck, motivating him, so that our team could win and we could be proud.

  Rah, rah, sis, boom, bah, and all that.

  That’s just the kind of selfless girl I am.

  What the heck is on the football?

  7:18pm

  I’m sitting in the stands with a big group of people. My glass four-leaf clover is tucked into the pocket of my shorts.

  Dawson is being his sweet, snuggly self and teasing me about my boots in front of everyone, but then he starts whispering in my ear about how he would like to see me in just my boots later on tonight.

  I’m not sure if I could do that.

  Two reasons why I could not float through my head simultaneously.

  One is that Grandpa would roll over in his grave, if he were dead, if he saw me doing those things in the boots he had made for me.

  The second reason is that boots are kinda Aiden’s and my thing. Like, not that we have a thing at all. But the way he calls me Boots and said he wanted to meet my grandpa . . . I just don’t think I could allow my boots to be a part of what Dawson has in mind.

  I may have to put a blindfold on them or put them in the corner or something.

  Jake and Whitney are sitting a couple rows below us, and I notice Dawson doesn’t seem to be affected by this at all. Which makes me very thankful. Bryce says Hey to them, then walks up and sits down behind me and Dawson.

  “So, did you take any of our advice?” he asks me.

  “About my speech?”

  “Uh, no, about making Dawson worship you.”

  This gets Dawson’s attention.

  He says teasingly, “What have you two been up to in ceramics?”

  Bryce laughs. “Well, so far I’ve made a lopsided cup and an animal that resembles a pig but was supposed to be a pony.”

  “They may have suggested the library,” I tell Dawson.

  His eyes get big and he gets a big old grin on his face. He turns to Bryce and puts his fist in front of him. They do a fist bump and he says, “You can make suggestions like that any time, man. Any time.”

  Now Bryce’s eyes get big. “You mean you took our advice! Like, the library idea?”

  I roll my eyes. “Maybe.”

  “Can I get a clone of you? Seriously?”

  I start to say something, but Bryce interrupts me. “What the heck is on the football?”

  In front of him, Annie says, “Looks like a four-leaf clover to me.”

  Dawson says, “That’s for Notre Dame, like the fighting Irish, right? Why would they put that on our footballs? Shouldn’t it be a cougar paw?”

  I look out and see that Riley is getting ready to toss a pass to Aiden. And on the football is a marker-drawn, green four-leaf clover outlined in black.

  And I think I just passed out.

  Toying with my force field.

  9:45pm

  Dawson has a paper due, so I’m getting ready to leave after giving him just a few kisses. Well, okay, we were making out a bit, and his hands were everywhere under my shirt. But I drew the line when he was trying to undo my shorts.

  “We both have homework. You told me to promise to make you do it.”

  “Oh, I wanna do it, alright.”

  “Dawson! Behave!”

  “Sorry, okay. I’ll text you before I go to sleep.”

  “K, bye.”

  As I round the corner to go down the hall, I almost run into Aiden.

  Who is looking more god-like than ever in a plain white T-shirt that clings to his perfectly formed chest.

  He grabs my hand and nods his head toward the stairs.

  I follow him up to his room.

  He shuts his door, locks it, and dazzles me with a smile. “So, only had twelve tonight. But we won!”

  “Yeah, you all played great. Riley’s really stepping up.”

  “That and we had a secret weapon.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Motivation.”

  “I saw the clovers on the footballs. That your doing?”

  “Yeah. This girl wished me luck and offered me dances. So I gave a little motivational speech before the game. Showed everyone that I drew them on the game balls, prayed Coach wouldn’t kill me, and it was a big hit. We went out there pretty pumped up.”

  “It was awesome, really.”

  “I didn’t have a chance to pick twelve new songs. Okay if we do some of the old ones?”

  “Are we dancing tonight?”

  “Heck yeah.”

  He hits play on his iPod and pulls me in close. We sway to the music and he gets so close to me. Like before. It’s like our faces have a force field around only them.

  And he is toying with my force field.

  Like, he’s firing shots, trying to find its weakness.

  And what’s up with that?

  Because I clearly told Kirk, or Scotty, or whoever is in charge of that stuff on the starship, Shields down!

  But he will not kiss me. He is totally teasing me, totally playing with me, and it pisses me off, and makes me weak at the knees at the same time.

  Remember how I said it feels like time stands still when I kiss him? It feels that way when I dance with him too. Like we are the only two people o
n this green earth, and we’re okay with that. And, before I realize it, we’ve gone through not just twelve songs, but all twenty-nine on his original playlist. Rap music blares on, and I look at the clock.

  Holy shit!

  Shit!

  “Aiden! I’m thirty-six minutes late!”

  I go tearing out of his room, down the stairs, and sprint to my dorm.

  I check in and receive a very stern warning and over one hundred minutes of detention.

  Worth. Every. Second.

  I mean, our team won, right?

  I’m still downstairs, dealing with being late. There’s paperwork that has to be filled out for my detention. Now that she’s done chewing me out and focusing on that, I check my phone.

  I have texts. Lots of texts.

  Dawson: Almost done with my paper. Night, Keatie <3

  Katie: You are 12 minutes late for curfew. Where are you?

  Katie: Texted Dawson, to tell you you were late. You are not with him???? Where are you??? And now you are 15 minutes late!

  Dawson: Where are you? I thought you were going back to your dorm?

  Katie: I’m freaking out. 18 minutes late.

  Katie: Text me for god’s sake.

  Maggie: Katie is trying to find you. Where are you?

  Annie: Why aren’t you in your dorm? Why aren’t you answering? Katie says Dawson doesn’t know where you are.

  Dawson: Text me when you get in. Katie’s freaking out.

  Katie: You ARE 27 MINUTES LATE!!!!

  Dallas: Heard you are MIA, have a sneaking suspicion you are tutoring. If so, use Dallas as your excuse. I will always have your back. But you better text me back and tell me what the deal is.

  Katie: 32 MINUTES!!

  Me to Katie: I’m in the dorm. Will be up in a few. Getting my ass chewed first. Tell everyone you were texting I’m fine.

  Katie: THANK GOD!

  Me to Dallas: I love you, seriously. And you are correct. I told you he is a powerful one. I got lost in his eyes and lost all track of time.

  Dallas: Why do I have a feeling you have something to do with the four-leaf clover on the footballs tonight. He gave you one before dance tryouts, right?

  Me: Right. And again before my speech. I just decided to like pay it forward. He wished me luck. I knew it was a rough game. I have school spirit, wanted the team to win, offered up some more dances. That’s where I was.

  Dallas: Was it just dancing?

  Me: Yes.

  Dallas: If I were Dawson, I wouldn’t want you dancing with Aiden. I wouldn’t give a shit about school spirit.

  Me: I’m on the dance team. I’m into school spirit. It’s like my job. So what were we doing? Why was I late? My brain is mush!

  Dallas: You were helping me study for our English test tomorrow and we were both so tired, we fell asleep.

  Me: We have a English test tomorrow??!! And Riley is your roommate. He will know.

  Dallas: Yes...go study. And Riley fell asleep early. You seriously need to talk me up to Katie, she’s cute. I deserve it.

  Me: Done :)

  I really don’t want to lie to Dawson.

  Me to Dawson: Hey, sorry. I’m fine.

  Dawson: It’s okay. I figured Katie was freaking out over nothing.

  I walk in my room, and if I didn’t get my ass chewed enough, Katie starts in on me. And really, I’m not in the mood. I tell her about Dallas, tell her I’m tired, and tell her goodnight.

  How many lies?

  1am

  I lie still in my bed and daydream about Greek gods in white T-shirts. Then, when I can tell she’s asleep, I get back up and study for the stupid test.

  While I’m studying, I get a text from Garrett asking if I’m still up.

  Me: Yeah.

  Garrett: I need to talk to you. Can you grab your iPad and go somewhere private?

  Me: Sure.

  I walk quietly out into the hall and then into the concrete stairwell.

  “What’s wrong?” I say when I answer Garrett’s call.

  “Some things have been going on that I need to update you on. On your Facebook wall, people have been speculating about where you are.”

  “You should just delete my profile.”

  “We’re monitoring it. And some interesting things have come up. Specifically, there has been a lot of talk about rehab facilities. A little over two weeks ago, one was mentioned by name. A famous one in Malibu.”

  “Okay?”

  “A day later, their office was broke into. Files were searched.”

  “I’ve heard that’s not uncommon. Paparazzi trying to get a story.”

  “I agree. But then, nine days ago, another one was named. The one we sent the plane to in Utah.”

  “Did it get broken into too?”

  “Yes. And, a few days ago, another one in Arizona.”

  “Have you been following him?”

  “Yes, but he hasn’t left. He probably hired someone to do it.”

  “Okay, so he’s still looking for me. Got it. I won’t do anything stupid.”

  “There’s something else.”

  I instantly panic. “Mom? The girls?”

  “No. They’re all fine. It’s your friend, Cush.”

  “What about him?”

  “He, well, he left. He’s not at your school anymore.”

  “Where is he?”

  “There’s a message from him on your Facebook. On your iPad is a special icon that looks like the one on your phone only it’s orange. Hit that. Then log into Facebook. It’s a program that doesn’t allow your IP address to be tracked. Read the message. I’ll wait.”

  I log on and take a deep breath. I have numerous messages and notifications, but I look for the one from Cush.

  And open it.

  Keatyn,

  I came to your party because I had to apologize to you. Tell you I was sorry about what I said after the whole Mandy thing. That it wasn’t your fault.

  I had something else to tell you too. It’s the real reason I came back. After all the plans we’d made, I felt like I owed it to you to tell you in person.

  Here’s what I was supposed to tell you:

  I decided to live with my dad and go to school in Oregon. I thought it would suck here, but it really doesn’t. I like coming home and having people in the house. Everyone here is really nice and I kinda met this girl. She’s sweet. You’d like her. She doesn’t care about being popular. It’s not that big of a deal here.

  But here’s what happened:

  I gave you the boots.

  You loved them.

  I wasn’t lying when I said they look like you, but I was lying when I said I bought them. I’m sorry, but my mom picked them out. She said they were a good brand and you would love them.

  Then you kissed me, and I wanted to forget about Oregon.

  I wanted to come back and pretend there was no one else.

  I loved dancing with you again.

  And then you dragged me off the dance floor and really kissed me. Told me you broke up with the surfer and that you loved me. I swear, Keatyn, you can wrap me around your finger like no one else can. I started making plans with you that I knew I couldn’t keep. I told you about prom because I wished it could be true.

  But then I started feeling guilty.

  Because I knew I was lying.

  I told myself I would tell you the truth at your after-party.

  But then you cancelled the party and left.

  I tried to call you. I tried to go to your house. I felt like I owed it to you to tell you in person, but I had to go.

  I hope I can see you again someday.

  And that you’re okay. You were the first girl I ever really cared about.

  I just had to do what’s best for me. Go where it’s good for me.

  I hope you’re somewhere good for you too.

  Cush

  Tears stream down my face, but I laugh at myself through them. At my own stupidity. I told a guy I loved him over a pair of boot
s. A pair of boots that I was convinced symbolized everything we could be. I’m such an idiot.

  “I read it,” I tell Garrett. Trying not to sound like I’ve been crying.

  “Are you okay? I remember you told me about how he loved all of you because of the boots.”

  “Yeah, the boots his mommy bought. I feel so stupid, Garrett.”

  “Don’t. When the right guy comes along, you’ll know it.”

  An instant message pops up. It’s Cush.

  Cush: Keatyn?

  “Garrett? Are you on with me? Did you see Cush just messaged me. Can I talk to him?”

  “Yes, I’m on with you. Be careful what you say.”

  Me: Cush, yes. It’s me. I was just sitting here reading your message. And crying.

  Cush: I’m sorry.

  Me: I know. I’m glad you’re happy at your dad’s.

  Up pops another instant message.

  Conman1: Come out, come out, wherever you are.

  “Garrett! Did you see that? Is that him? Is it Vincent?”

  “I’ll try and track it.”

  Cush: Where are you?

  Me: I’m not supposed to tell.

  Cush: Rehab?

  Conman1: Come out, come out, wherever you are.

  Me: I can’t tell . . . fuck it. You know how I told you there was family drama?

  Cush: Yeah . . .