The Secret Life of a Dream Girl (Creative HeArts) (3 page)

Chapter Three

He looks like I just hit him over the head with a really big rock. Eyes wide, mouth open, face pale and unmoving. And while Keegan is incredibly hot, I’d be lying if I said it’s a good look for him. Because it really, really isn’t.

It’s not the first time I’ve been on the receiving end of such a look, not by a long shot. But it is the first time I’ve been Dahlia when it happens—usually it’s Cherry who strikes people speechless.

For a second I think about just turning around and walking away. About pretending this whole thing never happened. It shouldn’t have happened—it
wouldn’t
have happened—if I hadn’t let Finn get in my head with all his big talk about connecting and the human experience. He’d made me think, made me wonder if maybe I shouldn’t attempt to reach out to a couple people at NextGen and try to make a connection or two, just to see what happens.

Which is why, when I heard Keegan talking to Jacen, I thought I’d skip my trip to the bathroom and give the connecting thing a shot. He’s a nice guy, after all, and I kind of know him. It seemed like the perfect opening—especially considering how obvious it was that they needed a female perspective.

Only now I’m not so sure that’s what they needed, after all. Keegan still hasn’t moved or blinked. I’m not even sure he’s still breathing. He just keeps staring at me, eyes big and round and mouth just a little bit agape. What makes it even worse is that I stare back like a total and complete idiot.

Someone needs to do something, and several more awkward seconds tick by before I figure out that that someone is me. If I don’t, we’re going to end up standing here gawking at each other until the dance is over and we get kicked off the grounds. And “Cherry: Trespassing Edition” is so not a headline I need right now.

I start with a smile and an apology. “Look, I’m really sorry. I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop or anything. I was just walking by and heard your conversation and butted in because I’m an idiot. Forget I said anything.”

For a second, it’s like my words don’t even register, but then he asks, “How much did you hear?”

“What?”

“Of our conversation. How much did you hear?”

“Oh. Not much, I swear. I heard Jacen tell you to stop being a wuss and go get the girl. That’s it.” It’s not exactly the truth, but it’s close enough that I don’t feel bad about lying.

Plus, it was definitely the right thing to say, because Keegan’s face finally unfreezes, the freaked-out look fading into friendly interest. “And you think he’s right?”

“I do. Not about you being a wuss, because it’s not like I know you well enough to say one way or the other. But I totally think if you like a girl, you should tell her.”

He lifts a brow. “Even if she’s never given any indication that she likes me back?”

For a second I can’t help wondering who this girl with the super-human self-control is. More than once, it’s been all I could do not to drool when Keegan walked in the room—in a purely platonic fashion, of course. It’s not my fault the boy looks really, really good in a flannel hipster shirt.

“Are you sure about that?”

“You sound like you don’t believe me.”

“It’s not that I don’t believe you. It’s just…girls can be tricky, hard to read sometimes. And I mean, seriously, look at you.” I wave a hand up and down in a gesture that encompasses him from head to toe. “You have to know that you’re kind of a catch.”

“Kind of?” he repeats with a laugh. “Wow, you really know how to make a guy feel good about himself.”

“I wasn’t trying to make you feel good. I was just being honest.”

“Honest, huh?” He steps a little closer, and suddenly I feel a little zing of electricity at his proximity. I mean, of course I do—the guy is one long, lean package of gorgeous. All laser-green eyes and sharp jaw and cheekbones you can hang the moon on. Plus he’s smart
. And
nice. Any girl with a pulse would feel a zing in this situation.

Still, I tamp it down quickly. A quick sizzle of attraction to Keegan is normal. Letting myself think it matters is something else entirely. And acting on it…acting on it is absolutely out of the question. First off, because he likes some other girl enough to get all freaked out about so much as talking to her, and secondly because there’s no way I’m getting that close to
anyone
at NextGen. It just wouldn’t be fair when I’m lying to everyone about who I am. Not to mention the fact that Cherry’s life is a total and complete mess right now. The last thing some unsuspecting guy needs is to be a part of
that
.

“Cut the crap, Keegan,” I tell him when I have control over my hormones again. “You know you’re hot. Plus, rumor has it you’ve got a pretty good brain to back up your looks. So what’s the problem? The girl would be nuts not to go for you.” But then something occurs to me. “She doesn’t have a boyfriend, does she?”

“I don’t think so, no.”

“That didn’t sound very confident.”

“Yeah, well, isn’t that what started this whole conversation?” he says with a smirk. “The fact that you don’t think I’m confident enough?”

I roll my eyes. “Nice deflection.” Something else occurs to me. “She’s not a teacher, is she?”

He looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “That’s disgusting.”

“I don’t know. Some of the teachers are pretty hot—like Ms. Torres or Mrs. Jackson.”

“My mom is the vice principal. I’ve known both of those teachers—and most of the others—since I was five.”

“Okay, I can see that being a little bit of a turnoff.”

He snorts. “Just a little bit. Not to mention the fact that they’re old.”

I don’t tell him that where I come from, age doesn’t matter nearly as much as what a person can do for you. The last thing he needs is to hear about some of the offers I’ve received through the years…

“Okay, no boyfriend and not a teacher. So what’s the problem, then? Why don’t you just ask her out?”

“After all that, that’s your big advice? That I should just ask her out? Thanks, but Jacen already told me that.”

“Well, it’s good advice. I mean, what’s the worst thing that’d happen if you ask her out?”

“She could say no.”

“Okay, so she says no. Big deal.”

Once again, he looks less than impressed with my intellect. “I don’t want her to say no.”

“Well, obviously. But you’re never going to know unless you try. Besides, she’s
not
going to say no.”

“You sound entirely too confident, considering you don’t even know who the girl is.”

“I am confident. And it doesn’t matter who she is.”

“Oh, yeah?” The music inside the tent gets really loud all of a sudden, making it nearly impossible for me to hear the rest of what he’s saying. So Keegan moves in even closer, so close that a deep breath on either of our parts would have my breasts brushing against his chest. Then he’s leaning, head down, so that his mouth is only a couple inches from my ear. And just like that, the zing is back, except this time it’s more like a bang than a zing—a mini explosion going off inside me before we’ve even touched. “Why’s that?”

“Because.” My voice sounds a little strangled and I clear my throat, give a fake cough or two. Try to play it off like it’s the famous Austin allergies and not the fact that I’m suddenly, wildly attracted to a guy I have no business being attracted to. “You’re the total package. Brains, beauty, and ambition. What girl could possibly say no to that?”

“A lot of them, actually.” He laughs, and it’s all rueful and self-deprecating and charming as hell. Not that I’m charmed. At all.

“I don’t believe you. You just need to own it more, that’s all.”

“Own it more? Really?” His eyes narrow considerably, and this time when he leans forward, his body actually does brush against mine. “So what you’re telling me is that if I asked you out right now, you’d say yes?”

My mouth goes dry. My hands go damp. And my heart slams against my ribs once, twice, then starts racing the way it does when I run out on stage in front of sixty thousand people. Is he asking me out?

Is Keegan Matthews actually asking me out?

For a second, just a second, I let myself think about what that would be like. Just going on a regular date with a regular guy. Dinner at some little dive, maybe catching a film that doesn’t involve a red carpet. Walking through the SoCo shops holding hands…it’d be really nice. But then reality comes crashing down on me, because I haven’t been able to go shopping in years without being recognized. And the absolute last thing I can do is go on a regular date with a regular guy when “regular” is the one word that absolutely can’t be applied to me.

I fumble around for a minute, trying to figure out what to say, when it hits me he’s just messing with me. Just trying another tactic to get the conversation off of him and his mystery girl.

Relief swamps me. Thank God I don’t have to make up some really lame excuse as to why I can’t go out with him. I’m a great liar—I’ve had to be—but that doesn’t mean I want to lie to Keegan any more than I absolutely have to. Not when it feels like he might be the first new friend I actually make here at NextGen.

Which is how I end up laughing instead of giving him any of the ridiculous excuses that swam through my head. “See how easy that was?” I tell him as I reach out and smack his shoulder. “Now you just have to do that with your mystery girl and you’ll be all set.”

“So you’re turning me down?” This time both brows go up. “See, you’ve proven my point. There’s no guarantee she’s going to say yes, no matter how much of a catch you say I am. And I don’t want to risk her saying no, not if it means I’ve blown my one and only chance with her.”

“First of all, you don’t get to hide behind a pretend invitation and say that it’s proof of anything.” It’s my turn to narrow my eyes at him. “But okay, I get it. If you’re really gone for this girl, the last thing you want to do is ask her out too soon and have her say no. Because if you stick around and try to force another opportunity, you come off as a stalker. And that’s a look very few people can carry off.”

“Exactly what I’ve been trying to tell you and Jacen,” he answers, obviously exasperated. “I’m definitely not a stalker. So I’ll just wait and see what happens. Maybe I’ll get a shot in a few months—”

“Wait and see what happens? What kind of can-do attitude is that? You don’t
wait
for her to notice you—you
make
her notice you!”

“Wow. A dance, twinkle lights, and a self-help lecture all wrapped up in one fifty-dollar package.”

“Funny,” I tell him with a roll of my eyes.

“I try.”

“Not hard enough, obviously, or we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“Seriously? We’re back to that?”

“We never left it!” I make sure I sound exasperated—and not charmed—by his ridiculousness.

“Fine. How exactly am I supposed to make her notice me, short of making a total ass out of myself?”

“Isn’t that obvious? You woo her!”

“Woo her?” He sounds incredulous.

“Woo her. As in wow her but with two
o
’s instead of a
w
. As in romance her. As in—”

“I know what woo means! I just don’t know how I’m supposed to do that when she barely knows I exist. Besides, does anyone actually woo anyone anymore?”

“If they don’t, they should.” I start to say more, but by this time a bunch more NextGen students have made their way out of the tent, and the last thing I want is for them to overhear our conversation. So I sling a companionable arm around Keegan’s waist and start steering him back toward the dance. It’s harder than it sounds considering we can’t go two feet without bumping into someone who knows Keegan or wants to know Keegan.

And I’ll give the guy credit. He stops for every single person who wants to talk to him. Gives a fist bump here, a pat on the back there, even a few hugs now and then. And I watch the whole thing, growing more and more impressed by him with every person who comes up to him. Because, much like the dance itself, Keegan is nothing like the TV and movie representations of the most popular guy in school. He’s open and friendly and, more, he’s a genuinely nice guy who tries to connect with every person he talks to.

In other words, he’s pretty much the anti-me. I’ve spent the last few years making sure I don’t connect with anyone but my fans. Making sure I don’t let anyone in close enough to know me, let alone hurt me. If I hadn’t just spent the last few minutes talking to Keegan about Dream Girl, I wouldn’t think he ever worried about getting hurt. He’s that open and has that many friends.

Which, I have to admit, is a big downside to picking Keegan Matthews as my first friend here. Because if I want to fly under the radar, hanging out with him is definitely not the way to do it. Already, I can feel people looking at me. Studying me. Trying to guess how I fit with Keegan.

Once I realize they’re looking, I try to keep a good amount of distance between us—at least a couple feet. Of course, it might be more convincing if Keegan, in typical Keegan Matthews style, would stop trying to include me in whatever conversation he gets drawn into.

He’s such a good guy—so different from most of the guys I know in the industry—that it kind of blows me away. He’s got everything going for him and yet he acts like he’s nothing special. Where I’m from, it’s usually the other way around. “Fake it ’til you make it” is the motto—pretend you’re the biggest thing in the world even when no one knows your name.

It was never my thing. My dad and manager were always after me to act bigger, think bigger, want more,
be
more. I tried to resist, but when there are contracts and record labels involved, what the artist wants matters about as much as what the janitor wants. Especially when that artist is underage.

“Hey, Dahlia.” Keegan’s at it again, smiling and gesturing me closer so he can introduce me to yet another group of people.

I let him make the introductions, before I fade quietly into the background of the conversation. Then, when he finally turns his face away to talk to someone else, I take the opportunity to duck back inside the tent for my purse.