by Jillian Dodd
“Because it’s funny. My story isn't funny-embarrassing it’s more scary-embarrassing.”
“At the time, it was pretty embarrassing. Can you imagine sitting in the dean’s office hung over as fuck, listening to the dean explain in detail your being naked on a float. I couldn't even find my pants. I was half frozen.”
“I’m glad you told me your story, but I really don’t want to tell people mine. Maybe in a few years when it’s not so fresh. And if I’m still alive.”
“You really think he wants to kill you?”
“I think he will keep me for a while. But eventually, yes, I think he would.”
“So we’ve seen three movies and I’ve eating two tubs full of popcorn, two boxes of candy, and three slushes. Do you think we can go back?”
I check my phone for the time. It’s after six o’clock. Vincent’s flight doesn’t leave until seven, but he should be there by now.
I text Garrett.
Me: Any word?
Garrett: He’s at the airport.
Me: Oh, good. That’s a relief.
Garrett: I’ll let you know when he’s on the plane.
“Am I going to get in trouble at school for skipping?”
“I think if you do, you should say you were upset about what the dean told you. That you left to handle some financial stuff. To check your account or something.”
“That’s a good idea. Can we go in the mall for a bit before we go back?”
“Are you dragging me to the shoe department?”
“We can go wherever you want. Do you want to look at clothes for you?”
“Not really. Let’s go with the shoes. They seem to make you happy.”
“That they do.”
I try on a bunch of shoes, buy a couple new pairs, and am paying for them when I get a text from Garrett.
Garrett: He boarded the plane and we watched them close the doors and pull away from the gate. I really don’t think he knows where you are, Keatyn. If he did, he wouldn’t be going back to LA.
Me: That makes me feel a little better. But you said he’s a planner. What if he went back there to plan? What if he knows you’re watching him?
Garrett: What do you think?
Me: I don’t think he would wait.
Garrett: Me either, but still be cautious. Pay attention to your surroundings. Listen to your gut. If you feel danger, get somewhere safe. Just like you did this time. And please put the locket back on.
Me: I will.
I grab my packages and we head back to school.
When Riley drops me off at my dorm, he tells me, “I’m sleeping in your room for the next few nights, just to be safe.”
“I think I’ll be fine. He might have hired someone to break in, but I think the rest of it, he’ll want to do himself. And he just got on a plane back to LA.”
“Still, I’m sleeping in there.”
“Riley, he’s strong.”
“Doesn’t matter. I’d have the element of surprise. He wouldn’t expect a guy to be in there. What are we going to tell Katie?”
“We don’t have to say anything to Katie. That girl sleeps like a rock. Dawson has come over a couple times and she never even knows he’s been here.”
When Riley sneaks in my room a bit after midnight, he lays down on my fluffy rug.
“Riley, just come up here and sleep with me. I feel bad you’re on the floor.”
“Don’t feel bad. I love this rug. I just want to keep petting it, and I so want to do Ariela on this rug. That’s how you can pay me back. Lend me the rug.”
Tuesday, October 4th
Total diva.
6am
Even with Riley in the room, I don’t sleep well.
I keep having dreams about Vincent. Him being in my room. Me screaming. How I’m screaming as loud as I possibly can, and even though there are people all around me, none of them can hear me.
When six o’clock rolls around, I get up feeling happy to have survived the night.
Luckily, it’s Pajama Day, so I don’t have to do much with my hair. I just put it in a messy bun, throw on the pink and black polka dot camisole and short set, a black slouchy sweater with a big pink heart on it, a pair of black sweater thigh highs, a great pair of Valentino ruffled lace-up biker boots, and I’m out the door.
I even have time to grab a latte before the Social Committee meeting.
I’m in line for coffee when Peyton cuts in next t0 me. “Will you please get me a hot chocolate?”
“Sure. You look really pretty today,” I say, taking in the long silky gown and matching fur heels she bought this weekend. Her hair is smooth and straight and she’s even wearing a long strand of pearls. “Total diva.”
“Whitney is going to be pissed when she sees me. All of them are wearing silk pajamas. You know, like the kind your mom wears.”
“Were you supposed to wear them too?”
“Well, it was suggested that we all wear them.”
“Are they wearing heels with them?”
“We’ll find out as soon as we get to the meeting. You look adorable, by the way. I love how you combine stuff that doesn’t seem like it would go together and make it look so good.”
I laugh. “This was all together at the store.”
“The pajamas, yes, but they didn’t have them with the thigh highs and the motorcycle boots.”
I look down at myself. “That’s true. I don’t know. I just have weird taste.”
“Well, it works. Oh, there’s my brother.”
“Do you want something?” I ask him right before I order.
“Naw, I’m good,” he says, holding up a bottle of water.
“Your T-shirt is awfully tight,” I tease, taking in his Lorenzini blue and white striped sleep pants, extremely fitted white T-shirt—that I know the girls will be going crazy over—and a pair of driving shoes that are so cool, Tommy would die for them.
“Those might be the coolest driving shoes I’ve ever seen,” I say, commenting on the color-washed, tie-dyed shoes he’s wearing. “My step dad would love them. What brand are they?”
“Alberto Moretti Arfango,” he replies. “I found them online at Barneys. Had to have them.”
“You are seriously a man after my own heart.”
Aiden gives me that stupid grin. Like I just admitted my undying love or something.
I roll my eyes at him and head to our meeting.
After the meeting, I’m leaving the building when Aiden runs up from behind me. “Where are you going?”
“I have to go get my stitches out.”
“Are you going by yourself?”
“Uh, yeah. Everyone says that it doesn’t hurt.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“No, you’re not. I’m fine.” I study his face. “Is it gonna hurt?”
“Sometimes they come out easily. Other times they sort of grow into your skin and it hurts a bit.”
I wince thinking about the possible pain. “I’m kind of a baby when it comes to stuff like this.”
“Really? You always seem so tough.”
“Emotionally, maybe I’m kinda tough, but with physical pain, I’m a wimp. I don’t know how I’m ever going to have kids.”
He gives me an intense look.
“What?”
“I was just thinking you’d be a great mom. Lots of fun.”
I smile. “I adore my little sisters. I think I’ll love being a mom. Pregnancy and birth, that’s another story.”
“Pleasure and pain.”
“Kinda like love in general. It can be really great or just a great big pain.”
Aiden nods his head agreeing with me.
“I was fine before, but now you have me all nervous.”
“I make you nervous?” he asks, moving closer to me in a way that makes me feel a completely different kind of nervous.
Because, hello, I have a boyfriend.
Who I love.
Get that tight-fitting T-shirt away from me.
“Wh
at’s with you lately? It’s like your goal in life is to pin me against the wall. I’m not going to fall for your little tricks, friend.”
“What little tricks?” he asks innocently.
“Hammering. Nailing. Screwing. Give me a break. Your tight white T-shirt may leave most of the girls at school panting, but it doesn’t work on me.”
“And why’s that?”
“Because I think there’s a lot more to a person that their looks. And I really don’t like you all that much.”
“Bullshit. You’re afraid to like me.”
“Afraid to like you?” I roll my eyes at him. “Is this a new experience for you? A girl that doesn’t fall into bed with you.”
“I’m not like that.”
“Please. I’ve heard enough from Maggie to know that’s exactly what you’re like. I’m just not interested in a guy that’s a player. I’ve been burnt by that kind of guy. I’ve been lied to by that kind of guy. That’s part of what I love about Dawson. He’s not a player.”
“Except for his summer in whoredom.”
“You’ve heard about that?”
“Hard not to when he bragged about it all during football camp. All the girls. All the parties. All the meaningless sex.”
“He was just on the rebound after Whitney. She broke his heart. He had fun. Big deal. Everyone has rebound sex.” I remember Aiden telling me that Dawson was just a rebound, so I quickly add. “I mean, it’s something guys do. Girls just cry.”
He shakes his head at me. “And what about the party? When he was pawing your shirt? He’s still rebounding. So are you for that matter.”
“You don’t know anything.”
“Keatie,” I hear Dawson call from behind us. “Wait up.”
Aiden and I turn around as Dawson catches up to me. “I’m coming with you to get your stitches out. My hand has recovered. We should be good.”
I laugh at him. “I’ll try not to kill your hand this time. Jake told me this is the easy part. Although Aiden says it might hurt a little.”
“Aiden’s right. Sometimes it hurts a little. And with today being a special day and all, I couldn’t let you go alone.” He throws his arm around my shoulder and pulls me in for a hug. He turns to Aiden. “You going to see the nurse too?”
The tops of Aiden’s cheeks turn slightly pink. “Yeah, I’ve, uh, got a sore throat. Wanted to get it checked out. Don’t want to be sick for the big game.”
Dawson slaps him across the back. “Good plan. We don’t want to disappoint all the alumni. Dean would be pissed off for a week. And you know what happens when he gets pissed off.”
Aiden nods in agreement, but I say, “What happens?”
“He just gets all pissy, which causes the teachers to get pissy, which causes our dorm advisors to pay more attention than we’d like. But we’re lucky we have Aiden. Everyone thinks he’s a good boy. That’s why we always party in his room.”
Aiden grins back at Dawson, but there’s something there. Something fleeting in his eyes.
After a surprisingly pain-free removal of the stitches, Dawson says, “You did good. Let’s go celebrate.”
“We’re going to celebrate getting my stitches out?”
He holds up the passes the nurse gave us. “Did you notice how I distracted her with questions when she was filling these out?”
“You were asking a bunch of dumb questions.”
“Yeah, she’s not a good multi-tasker. See this line where she’s supposed to write what time we left? She didn’t fill it out. That means we can go have some fun. And we need to have fun this week. When you start play practice next week, you won’t have any time for me.
“I like fun,” I say. “And I’ll make time.”
“You know what today is, right?”
“Tuesday?”
“Yeah, what else?”
“Pajama day?”
“Try again.”
“Uh, Taco Tuesday?”
“It’s our anniversary.”
“We have an anniversary? We haven’t even been going out for a full week yet.”
He grins. He’s got his school blazer off and the sleeves of his oxford rolled up. He looks so damn sexy.
“Yep.” He pulls my waist into his. “It’s been a month since our first time.”
“Our first time. As in when we had sex in the Hamptons?”
“That’s a night worth remembering, don’t you think?”
“Is it bad that we’re celebrating our sexual anniversary?”
“I don’t think so. It’s when we got together.”
“True.”
“So I have plans for you after Taco Tuesday, but since we have some extra time now, we might as well take advantage of it.”
“How are we going to celebrate this anniversary?”
“Exactly the way it started.”
He pulls me inside his dorm and pushes me against the door, kissing me. He drops his jacket and backpack on the common room sofa then pushes me against the wall in the hallway. He’s kissing me with that same intensity he did that first night. That night I knew there was no way I could resist him.
We work our way down the long hall. His hands are feeling their way across what’s underneath my sweater.
After seriously making out down the hall, we finally make it to his room.
He pulls my sweater off and takes in my little pink knit camisole set.
“Very cute,” he says.
“Take it off me. There might be something underneath that shouldn’t be categorized as cute.”
He gets a naughty grin on his face and slowly pulls up my cami, revealing a sexy black lace Agent Provocateur push-up bra.
He licks his lips, kisses my cleavage, then slowly pulls down my shorts to reveal the teeny matching briefs.
He stands back and looks at me. Then he literally leaps on top of me, pinning me to the bed.
“You always ruin my plans,” he says, as he strips his own clothes off.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
As he pulls off my panties, he says, “I always think I’m going to be able to go slow. I can’t go slow with you.” He covers my mouth with his and quickly proves his point.
A short while later, we’re dressed and heading to class.
“We’ll go to Taco Tuesday tonight, but we’re leaving early. Gonna do some more celebrating.”
“Where are we going?”
“Back to our lake.”
As in the lake where we parked and did it standing up against his car.
Dawson is like a sexual buffet. I never know what to expect, what’s going to be next in line. But I definitely want to keep going back for more.
Looking like a slut.
Lunch
Dawson and I are in line getting lunch. Whitney and Peyton are ahead of us and Peyton is getting chewed out.
“What is your problem lately? You go on one trip with Dawson’s little plaything and come back looking like a slut. Did she help you pick out those furry heels?” Whitney asks, scowling at Peyton.
I give Dawson a look. Like, what a bitch.
Dawson winks at me, walks past me, and smacks Peyton on the butt. “Looking pretty sexy there, Arrington.”
Peyton jumps slightly from the smack, but her face breaks out in a wide grin. A smirk, really, directed at Whitney.
Whitney doesn’t bite though. “My point, exactly.”
“Whitney, I don’t tell you how to dress. Why would you think you could tell me?”
“Because the five of us have dressed alike for every spirit day for the past three years, maybe?”
Peyton shrugs. “Well, if you were on the dance team, you’d understand. Sometimes you get tired of dressing like everyone else.”
Oh. Damn. She just slammed Whitney for not making the dance team.
Peyton’s bitch is totally coming out.
But I’m worried about her because I know what happens when you go up against a Queen.
You become just as big of a
bitch as she is.
I want to tell Peyton it’s not worth the fight. Just do your own thing.
Then Damian’s song starts playing in my head. Just do your own thing, do it up big, rocket to the moon, now everybody sing.
I think maybe I need to get Peyton to listen to that song.
I get my food then go to our table.
“That was sweet of you,” I whisper to Dawson as I set my tray down.
“So you have to help me win Mr. Eastbrooke,” he replies.
“What’s that?”
“It's a contest we have every year. The competition is held during the pep rally on Friday. Each boys’ sport chooses a junior or senior to represent their team. I got picked to represent the football team. It’s a big deal.”
“What do you have to do?”
“Dress up like a girl.”
I laugh. “Seriously? And you want to do that?”
“Of course. It's awesome. So you have to make me look pretty. I’ll need makeup, a wig, heels, and an outfit. We all walk out in heels and wave at the crowd. Then we have to do either a dance or a cheer.”
Bryce adds, “Everyone votes by clapping for their favorite.”
“Hmmm. I just can't picture you as a girl.”
He runs his finger down my arm. “Just think. You can grind all up against me and pretend I’m a girl. Only when you take me home, I’ll have a little surprise for you under my skirt.”
“I can handle the clothes. Do you want me to help you with a dance too?”
“No. Honestly, even though it’s always an option, no one ever dances. A cheer is a lot easier to learn. Riley said Ariela could teach me one.”
I finish up my lunch quickly, then tell Dawson I have some stuff I need to do. What I need to do is work my way around the freshman tables and start suggesting they vote for Peyton.
He’s sweet?
5:30pm
I’m just finishing up tutoring Aiden in the library when Dawson texts me.
Dawson: I’m STARVING and ready to start celebrating ;)
Me: I’m about done. Be there soon. Heart you.