"I don't think so. Only me and Dallas that I know of."
"I can't handle being friends with her," he tells me randomly.
"With Peyton?"
"Yeah, I love her. Standing there watching her dance with Jake tonight. I wanted to alternately kill him, kill her, or kill myself." (If you are one of my readers who isn't a teen anymore, this line so sums up the intense feelings you have about life and love at that age. Everything seems so much bigger and more important than it is. I remember crying and begging and pleading for my mom to let me go to this "one party" because it was literally the most important thing ever. She relented. Let me go. Nothing important occurred.) "She asked me about our kiss last night."
"Oh. God."
"No, I told her you were really drunk, that I stopped it, that it was messy and horrible."
"You're not exactly cheering me up here."
"I let her know it meant nothing. That is was nothing. She told me what happened. She also said you had a fight before it, that she pushed you, and it was partly her fault."
"She said that? She always says it was all my fault."
"I think maybe she's realizing in a relationship, it's never one person's fault. Just like in Physics. The Newton dude's law. Like for every action, there is a reaction."
"That's pretty freaking deep, dude. And you haven't even smoked yet, have you?"
"No. I don't know if I will. I just wanted to come out here and think. You're not the only one with relationship problems."
"What you said about my brother earlier, that really true?"
"Sorta. Not really. I don't think we would have done anything, but I sorta made a little move, and he was teasing me telling me he was making me wait. I can't even believe I was considering doing what I was considering doing anyways. I've known him for three freaking days. I'm an idiot."
"No, your not. This is all new and exciting. It will get old and boring pretty fast, trust me."
"So have you tried to get her back?"
"Ye-ah. All the time. She won't listen to me. Says we are just friends. I can't be her friend."
"So you've apologized?"
"A million times."
"What did you apologize for?"
"For hooking up with another girl, what else would I apologize for?"
"Well, she told me today that the hookup wasn't really the problem."
"What the f*ck? What do you mean?"
"She said you lied to her about it. That she can't trust you anymore."
"I didn't lie to her when she first asked me. I really didn't remember!"
"Maybe that's what you should tell her. Earn back her trust. Also what Aiden said to you the other night, that his sister would never get back together with you because of how you were acting, when you were like pawing my top. You been acting like that a lot lately?"
"We just got back to school!"
"This summer maybe? Last spring?"
"Hmm, yeah maybe. So what am I supposed to do? Go without girls to try and prove something to her?"
"I think maybe that's exactly what you need to do."
"Can't I just buy her some jewelry or something. That was my dad's suggestion."
"I don't think you want to look like you're buying her, do you?"
"No. I can't freaking win."
"What if you could?" (This simple question starts so much.) "What do you mean?"
"I think your image needs a makeover."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
Dallas crept up on us and whispered, "Hey guys," and wrapped me in a big hug.
"I love you already, you know that."
"Hey, I need hugs too." Dawson said, and Dallas and I jumped on him, hugging him, knocking him to the ground.
Dallas says, "So tonight was good, then went to shit, what happened with Aiden?"
"Yeah, what happened with Aiden?" Dawson asked.
"Well, he took me to his dorm room, opened the door and he had put lights up on the ceiling and had rose petals on the floor, and seriously, I was pissed. Here he had been telling me he wanted to dance with me, made it sounds all romantic, and I walk into this huge seduction scene."
"So you don't want to do it with Aiden?" Dallas said.
"Well not yet! Not until I know if he likes me. And we go out and all that and like fall in love or something. Like it'd be a while, for sure! After last night, I thought we were done, then he scored the points for me, and I was hopeful. So we danced, kissed his amazing kisses. But still, no making out. No hands. Nothing. Then he decides to pop the champagne, and he then he does this sweet toast. By fucking Keats."
"What's wrong with Keats? Isn't he the romantic poet dude?" Dawson wondered.
And Dallas was like "Ohhhh, the surfer dude. He calls you Keats, right? You got mad at me and said no one else could call you that."
"Yeah, plus he always quotes Keats poetry to me. And he did one about nothing becoming real until you experience it and that was right before we had sex. My first time. The night before I came here! Like four days ago!"
Dawson lowered his voice said, "Oh, dude. Bad move, huh? Like mood killer?"
"Ya think? I like froze. Then I slammed two flutes of champagne and tried to chill. He didn't know. And his quote was sweet, like about bliss and kisses."
Dallas laughed, nudged me with his elbow. "So THEN did he try to get down and dirty?" (LOL, Dallas.) "NO!! We kissed, and finally made out a little. But he still like, you know, his hands stayed put."
"You can kiss me, I promise my hands won't stay put." Dallas shot back.
"That goes for me too." Dawson grinned.
"YOU," I said, pointing to Dawson, "are done with the random hookups. No kissing. No sex. You are a good boy."
Dallas rolled out the blanket. "So that sounded okay, why did you say he doesn't like you?"
"Cuz then he asked about the Keats, and I told him. I said intense, and then he asked if I meant sex when we were walking home, and I said yes, and then he didn't kiss me goodbye. He acted mad at me. Mad I had sex with a guy have known for three years. BEFORE I even met him. Then he kissed me on the CHEEK and said, See ya later, Boots. So does he like me or hate me?"
"I vote for hate you."
"Yeah me too."
"You guys suck."
Dallas said with a naughty little voice, "Well we don't, but hey, you feel like sucking something, we certainly won't stop you." (Love his funny, dirty mind.) I punched him. (Also, please ignore the fact that this switches back from past to present tense. Bad author.) "Okay, here, we need this." Dallas lit up his little party favor, and we got a little baked.
We all laid on Dallas's blanket, looking up at the night sky. There are lots of stars out. It's gorgeous.
It's also getting chilly, and pretty soon we are all three wrapped up in the blanket.
"So back to making over your image. I mean think about it. You know like in Hollywood if someone gets caught cheating on their wife, or gets a DUI, or goes to rehab, they look bad? People think they are doing bad thing, their movies maybe don't sell, they can't get corporate sponsors, advertising dollars, that kind of thing. There are publicists who specialize in making over your image. Like hook you up with a charity event, get you out and about photographed doing good, raising money, happy pics of you your happy family. But you have to do what I say."
"We'll see, depends what you want me to do. I don't wanna look lame." Dawson tells me.
"What do you think your reputation is at school? How do people view you?"
"I'm the quarterback and dated the hottest girl. I'm like cool."
"Maybe that's what you used to be. I mean, I know I've only been here a few days, but I see you as a guy who is a dick to his brother, a player, and a partier. And a quarterback who doesn't give a shit."
"Dallas, you've known me longer. What do you think?"
"I'd have to agree with her dude. Sorry."
"Well shit." (Poor Dawson. Let's pour some truth salt on his wounds and rub them in.) "So are you a good quarterback?" I ask.
"Yeah. I was last year."
"Okay, so here's the other thing you've got going for you. You're hot. Like besides the God of all Hotties, you are the most gorgeous guy here. Amazing body. That's the first thing I noticed about you."
"But if I can't be with other girls, what good is it gonna do me?"
"Dude, I don't think she said you couldn't be with any girls, you just can't be with every girl. He could have a girlfriend right? Just not a bunch of hookups?"
"Right, Dallas! And oh, that would make her so jealous. Hookups, kissing freshman, oogling bras, that just makes her know she was right. You get, or seem, slightly serious about a girl, that might upset her a little."
"And you need to be nicer to Riley."
"Damn, Dallas, you're good. He's right. Peyton and Aiden are tight. You're a jerk to your brother. You need him to be your best friend. And he idolizes you, seriously, you should be nice to him."
"Yeah, I have been kinda a douche."
"And how bout this social committee that Peyton is on? Are you on it?"
"No, but I could get on if I wanted."
"Do it. You're gonna have to work closely with her to plan some events, I think."
"You also need to get back to your confident self. I see you moping around with her. Embrace your new friendship. Start confiding in her, maybe about a girl you might like, or a project. Maybe you do a social event that would raise money for a charity."
"I want her to go to homecoming with me."
"Then that's our goal. You'll be a good brother, a good quarterback, a nice guy, a leader. New and improved and most importantly, trustworthy."
"Dude, why do you like her so much? Like what is it about her?" Dallas asks.
"Her hair always smells like strawberries, she has the softest skin, she has great legs and is absolutely gorgeous. She's a good person too, like pretty nice to most people."
"And we're gonna get her back, man."
"You're so cute, and sweet." I tell Dawson. "I like this new you already."
"Maybe you can be my new girlfriend?"
"Uh, I think I have enough complications as it is. But, I could flirt with you. But I couldn't kiss you. Peyton says you're a good kisser, but my experience was awful. Sorry, but it was."
"Maybe I need to fix that."
"Fix what?"
Then he kisses me. A slow sweet kiss.
And I can't help it. I kissed him back a little. Even though I knew I shouldn't. (Oh, Keats...let's see. How many boys have we kissed now in four days? Brooklyn, Riley, Dallas, Aiden, Dawson. Is it bad that I want to be Keatyn?) "So? And I know you didn't want to kiss me, but I can't have you going around telling everyone how awful I am. THAT will not be good for my image."
"Right." I giggle. "And you're right, it wasn't awful." And I'm thinking there's something about Dawson that makes him sexier than Riley. It's his humbleness, his thoughtfulness, his sweetness. I can see why Peyton liked him.
"Hey, I'm gonna head in. Don't stay out too late."
He no more than gets the words out of his mouth, walks into the trees, and Dallas is kissing me. Nice, fun, easy kisses.