Love Me (23 page)

“I’m not perfect, Damian.”

Damian laughs. “You just now figuring that out?”

“Kinda. I blamed him for everything that didn’t work between us. A lot of it was my fault too.”

“So do I need to kick his ass?”

That makes me laugh. “You planning on seeing him?”

“Actually, yeah, that’s why I called. He’s in Japan this weekend. Surfing Tahara. Our concert is in Kyoto on Friday. They’re only a couple hours apart.”

“Gracie’s birthday is coming up.”

“I know. I bought her a huge stuffed Hello Kitty. I think she’ll like it.”

“You did? That’s so sweet. Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me. I love Gracie. I mean, who could resist that pout?”

“No one can.” I laugh. “You don’t need to kick B’s ass anymore. Can I ask you a question though?”

“Of course.”

“He says when this is all over that he wants to give us another chance. Do you think I should?”

“I think that all depends on where you are when this is all over. Right now, it being over isn’t looking too good.”

“I know, but I need to hang onto that hope. It’s what gets me through, you know?”

“I know. What did you decide to do for Thanksgiving?”

“I’d like to go to The Crab, if that’s still okay.”

“I’ll let Dad’s assistant know. She’ll make sure everything is ready for you. Will you be there alone?”

“I mentioned it to a friend, but we haven’t talk about it since. So yeah, probably.”

“I hate that you’ll be alone.”

“It’ll be okay. I’m looking forward to it, actually.”

“Well, the jury’s still out on Brooklyn as far as I’m concerned. I’ll let you know if I had to kick his ass or not.”

“Sounds good. Tell him hi for me. And know that I wish I was there with you guys.”

“We’ll wish you were too. Bye, Keats.”

Thursday, October 27th

I’m getting jacked.

English

I let out a huge sigh of relief, walk to the teacher’s desk, and hand in my English test. I’m pretty sure I got a good grade.

Dallas follows me out the door. I look over and realize that I have to look up at him. 

“Have you gotten taller?” 

“Yeah, a little.”

“You’re taller than me now. No wonder you eat so much.”

He pulls up his Eastbrooke polo sleeve and flexes a surprisingly buff arm at me. “I’m getting jacked too.”

I squeeze his bicep. “Damn. You are.” 

“Oh, hey, there’s the love god stalking you. See ya, Kiki.”

“So, how was the test?” Aiden asks me.

“How do you know my schedule?” 

“I think you told me.”

“I don’t remember telling you,” I tease.

“Fine. Dallas told me.” 

I raise my eyebrows at him. “So you were talking about me, huh?”

He shakes his head as his big hand cups my waist. “Maybe a little.”

Electricity runs through my blood, energizing me more than a Red Bull. I was tired, but now I’m wide awake, my heart racing.

“So?” He gives my waist a little tickle.

I giggle and move my away, even though I don’t really want him to stop touching me. 

“I think I did well. English has always been my best subject, but I forgot to study for a test the night I missed curfew, when we were dancing, and I totally bombed it. Like, I got a 37. It killed my grade.”

“So it’s my fault?”

I smile. “Well, now that you mention it, I think it is.”

“Have lunch with me today?”

“Sure.” 

“Cool,” he says. “I need to stop in the office real quick. Meet me there?”

I tell him okay, then get a text from Dawson.

Dawson:  You done with the boy-free zone yet? 

Me:  Yes :) Test is OVER!

Dawson:  I miss you :(

Me:  And you’re horny?

Dawson:  Very. You don’t want me wandering around school all horny and lonely, do you?

Me:  I could have sex with you every minute of every day, and you’d still be horny. You’re a boy. And even worse, you’re a Johnson. I’ve been hearing about Cam’s exploits last year in the dance locker room. 

Dawson:  You know I’m not like him. Go to the JV game with me tonight. I’ll bring a big sweatshirt ;)

Me:  I have rehearsal. 

Dawson:  Sit with me at lunch?

Me:  Aiden already asked me to. 

Dawson:  That pisses me off.

Me:  Would you prefer I have lunch with you and start having sex with him?

Dawson:  Good point.

I get some food then sit down next to Dallas. A few minutes later, Aiden joins us. 

“You coming to watch the JV game tonight?” Riley asks me.

“I can’t. I have rehearsal.”

“Shoot. Forgot about that. When do you have it this weekend?”

“Early Saturday morning and then Sunday night.”

“Perfect. You’re coming home with me.”

“What for?”

“Saturday is my birthday.”

“Really? I didn’t know that!”

“You know now.”

“Is Ariela coming too?”

“No, she has that cheer competition. Sucks. Dawson and I have to go home with our parents after the game on Friday. Maybe you could take the train after practice?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it.”

“I’ll wait and come with her,” Dallas offers. 

I pat his forearm and lean my head into the side of his. “That’s sweet,” I tell him.

“I have plans Friday night,” he whispers.

I roll my eyes at him. Then I glance at Aiden. 

He doesn’t look happy. And I’m not sure why.

But as we walk together to French, he doesn’t say a word to me.

Not my fault.

8:30pm

I come off the stage after doing one of my scenes and look around for Aiden. 

“I don’t think he’s coming,” Logan says to me.

“Why not?”

“Where are you going this weekend?”

“Riley’s birthday party.”

“At Dawson’s house.”

“That’s not my fault.”

“You’re driving him nuts.”

“Yeah, well, it’s only fair. He drives me nuts. All his sex quizzes and the hammering, nailing, and screwing. And how am I supposed to concentrate in French class with him always breathing on my neck and whispering in my ear?”

Logan grins at me.

“What?”

“You really like him.”

“Don’t you have to get on stage or something?”

Friday, October 28th

Make it up to me.

2:57pm

Dawson texts me right before school’s out. 

Dawson:  Meet me by the field house. I need to talk to you for a second before I leave for the game. 

I walk down to the field house and find Dawson standing outside waiting for me. He pulls me into a big kiss, right as Aiden walks out of the door. 

I see Aiden literally recoil.

I smack Dawson’s shoulder. “You wanted him to see us kiss, didn’t you?”

Dawson smiles. “Who, me? I just wanted to kiss my girl before I get on the bus. Nothing wrong with that.” 

“What’s wrong with that is I’m not your girl.” 

“It’s also our anniversary. One month since I asked you out.”

“We can’t have an anniversary when we’re not going out, Dawson. You can’t have your cake and eat it too.”

I’m pissed. 

But as I march away, I realize that I’m no better than he is. I’ve been wanting the same thing. 

I pack up my dance bag, darken my makeup, and change into tonight’s game outfit. 

Then I sit down and text Aiden.

Me:  I’m sorry about that. I’ve got so much on my mind and he just . . . I’m sorry, okay?

Hottie God:  Sorry you did it, or sorry I saw?

Me:  Both.

Hottie God:  Not sorry enough to stop kissing him.

Me:  I’m sorry!

Hottie God:  I don’t think it’s enough :)

Me:  Why the smiley face?

Hottie God:  You’re going to make it up to me. 

Me:  And how am I supposed to do that?

Hottie God:  The list is going to be long.

Me:  I can handle it.

Hottie God:  My demands: #1. Sit next to me on the ride home.

Me:  Fine.

Hottie God:  #2. Hang out with me tonight. Late.

Me:  Done.

Hottie God:  3. Don’t go to Riley’s.

Me:  I have to. It’s his birthday. 

Hottie God:  So that’s the only reason you’re going? Shit. Never mind. I don’t want to compare the relationship. Regardless of what’s going on with you and Dawson, we’re taking it slow and going at our own pace. 

Me:  We’re teenagers, aren’t we supposed to fall head over heels in love? 

Hottie God:  I did that 8 times last year. None of them worked. I’m trying a different approach.

Me:  Uh, okay. So any other demands?

Hottie God:  Yes. #4. Points for dances tonight. 

Me:  Deal :) And Aiden . . .  I have a demand.

Hottie God:  What? I’m in the position of power here, not you. You don’t get demands.

Me:  I’m not much for following rules ;)

Hottie God:  No shit. What’s your demand?

Me:  Naw, I guess you’re right, I should play fair.

Hottie God:  Tell me.

Me:  Naaaaaw. Never mind.

Hottie God:  Boots, NOW!

Me:  Don’t tell me what to do.

Hottie God:  Fine. Don’t tell me. Then I won’t have to do it. I didn’t want to anyway.

Shit. What just happened? He was supposed to beg me to know. 

Me:  Okay, then I won’t tell you that my demand was that you score a lot of points. For me. Just for me. So you can dance with me. Hold me tight. But that’s okay. You don’t want to. Never mind.

Hottie God:  You are difficult to negotiate with, do you know that?

Me:  That depends. Are you giving in to my demand?

Hottie God:  Absolutely.  

Me:  I like getting my way :)

Hottie God:  Yeah, I know.  

Me:  I’m sending you a mental four-leaf clover. Good luck tonight, Aiden.

Hottie God:  I gotta go now. I have a pre-game ritual I need to follow. It helps me concentrate. See you after the game :)

Over and over again.

11:15pm

I’m sitting with Aiden in the very back of one of the buses. Since Dawson went home with his parents after the game, I didn’t have to worry about any drama. On the way to the games, the football team, band, cheerleaders, and spirit squad, all have to ride in different buses. Mostly because the football team always leaves before the rest of us, so they can warm up. After the game, we all leave at the same time, so it gets all mixed up. 

“So, we need to talk about sex.” Aiden says. 

“You wanna talk dirty?” I tease, hoping to avoid this subject. Because I know sex isn’t what he wants to talk about. He wants to talk about my sex with Dawson. 

“Maybe later.”

“So, you had a good night,” I tell him. Please let him be distracted. Please.

“It doesn’t help the team when the quarterback won’t throw to a guy that’s wide open.”

“Do you think that was on purpose?”

“Hell, yeah, it was on purpose. Add to that his two interceptions. We’re lucky that we got down close enough for me to kick all those field goals.”

“Five goals. Fifteen points and a win. Although, that’s not very many dances.”

Aiden runs his finger across my palm. 

I move to kiss him. 

“Ow!” I say, as he reacts to my sudden movement by bumping his head hard into mine.

“Damn, Boots, I managed to get through the game without a scratch. Now you give me a concussion while I’m on the bus.”

I lean back, holding my eyebrow and studying him. “I’m sorry.”

He gently pulls my hand away from my eyebrow, leans in, and kisses it. Right on top of the big ugly bump I can feel forming.

I think he felt it with his lips because he moves his face away and gently runs his finger across the top of it. “I’m just teasing you. I’m fine, but your eyebrow is swelling up. Let me get something.”