"They asked me to tutor your brother. I didn't want to. So this is what they came up with."
Her face goes white. (Even though in this version Peyton is the mean girl, in the published version, this was the beginning of what put Peyton between a rock and a hard place. It is the first arena (besides the lunch table) where Keatyn and Peyton have to interact with Whitney.) I continue. "You know, I can always change my mind. He could probably get another tutor. So, ya know, I'll leave it up to you. You can support me and help, and we can have fun and do some really cool stuff this year, or I'll quit both this and your brother. Up to you."
Brad says, "Hey, Keatyn, come walk with me. I want to talk to you a little more."
I say, "As long as you're walking straight to coffee. I'm in dire need of some caffeine."
"Dude, me too."
We're standing in line for coffees when Dawson comes up from behind me, grabs me around the waist, pulls my back into him, kisses me on the side of the neck, and says, "Damn Keatie, looking good."
I giggle. Dawson says to Brad, "Hey, you got a good speech planned for the pep rally?"
"Speech?" I ask.
Dawson says, "Yeah, the football captains have to speak today. I'm offensive captain, and Brad is the defensive captain. We gotta pump up the team and the fans."
"Wow. Cool. Good luck."
"I'm gonna need it. I have no idea what I'm gonna say," Brad says looking worried.
I think back to Tommy's last movie. He played a seemingly average football coach, who was really a kick ass espionage spy.
"Aw, that's easy....remember these words, kill, kick ass, destroy, annihilate, win, and of course, GOOOOOO COUGARS!!"
Dawson grabs my ass, "I think maybe we should just let her talk for us."
"Or bring her out there with us. No one will even be looking at us."
"Y'all are silly. I gotta go to class. Nice meeting you, Brad. I'll email you some ideas."
I got to first period and sat down by Riley, asked him what he thought of the idea of themed weekends or activities.
"Sounds like a lot of work," was his reply.
When I frowned he added, "But fun. Very fun."
I start an email and brainstorm ideas. Lets see, what are some of the studio parties I've been to?
There was a Moroccan themed bash, complete with belly dancers. How fun would that be? Have someone teach us to belly dance. There was great food, lots of pretty bright colored fabrics, oh and someone was doing henna tattoos, and the music was very chill. People smoked from elaborate hookah pipes and drank different kinds of bold teas. Embroidered pillows scattered around low tables. Colored lanterns. I wore a turquoise blue dress with golden embroidery, I think I was about twelve, and I remember feeling extremely grown up.
Then there was the classic beach luau Tommy and Mom had at our house in Malibu. Drinks served in pineapples, floral leis as everyone arrived, tables laden with exotic fruits and flowers, a whole pig roasting in a pit in the stand. (Truth: it was a fake pig, a stage prop, not sure how it was flammableish, but whatever. Mom is a big supporter of animal rights and although she eats meat, seeing it roasted whole in front of her was not appetizing.) There was a combination of Hawaiian music and beach boys. Surf boards out front. Surfers were "performing" as in surfing before sundown, the beach was lit with tiki torches, hula girls dancing and some big sumo wrestling looking guy that could eat fire on a sword or a stick. I'm not sure. I couldn't watch. I think this theme would be good when we are all sick of the snow. Guests wore bikinis, floral shirts. It was chill, laid back.
Mom did a themed baby shower for one of her real best friends, actress Milly Rodriguez, who was having a baby with her Laker's husband. It was Parisian themed. Wandering artists in berets, a chocolate replica of the Eiffel tower (a little overboard, if you ask me) pink and black awnings, amazing french foods, cigarettes in long holders, waiters in black tails. Old French black and white romance movies playing on a big screen across the back yard.
So I send these ideas in an email to Brad. I even suggested that we get other clubs to help us, if we decide to do this. Like maybe let the art department, either teachers or the art club raise funds by henna painting or drawing characters. I also suggested that each week there is some kind of contest, to get the competitive spirit going, and that each theme we do we have a charity we raise money for. I was also thinking the girls will probably really get into it, but I'm not sure about the boys, so maybe the competitions are fun, sports related somehow. I told him I would defer to him on that. I mean even lawn darts and croquet can be highly competitive.
If nothing else, I told him, it will look great on our college applications, and we'll have some fun doing it.
Vote for Boots, she likes to knock boots.
French I plow through the rest of the day, buzzed on caffeine and getting surprisingly nervous about the pep rally. I'm not even nervous to go to french class today. I mean I survived pizza and studying with Aiden without letting his lips touch mine.
I can however feel the exact spot where his touch practically burnt my skin. It's right here, across the top of my pinkie and across to my middle finger. There's no noticeable scar or anything, but I can feel it still.
But then he made me worry. "Don't screw up at the pep rally today. My sister said you guys don't really have the dance down very good."
"I have the dance down just fine. I won't be screwing up."
Uh, I hope. Oh. I should have paid better attention yesterday. Damn him, for distracting me when with his, its tutoring with food crap.
Then I remember what I am supposed to do this weekend, and why maybe I should postpone the NY trip til next weekend.
Annie, who has become my unofficial Student Council campaign manager, says, "Okay, so we can start putting up campaign signs Monday morning at 6am. So we're going to have to work on them all weekend. And I was thinking something fun and girly, lots of purples, pinks, silver glitter. But I haven't come up with a good campaign slogan yet."
Aiden behind me says, "How bout, Vote for Boots, She likes to knock boots." (Can you imagine this poster hanging on the walls of Eastbrooke? LOL) I turn around, so totally and completely offended. My face is probably screwed up looking, but I don't care. "Are you effing me?"
"Oh, uh, yeah, that's probably a bad idea. I was thinking like knocking boots as in like kicking a soccer ball with the boots, not uh, like oh gosh. I'm sorry. Shit."
"Merde."
"What?"
"It's shit, in french. At least I should be able to teach you to properly cuss in french. Whatever. I have a campaign idea. I wanna use school colors. All the signs will be red, yellow, lots of gold glitter and leopard. I was thinking about saying, Vote for Keatyn Mon----roaaaarrrrr. Like we roar at football games? What do you think?" (Is that not super cool or what? Even though I planned all the high school stuff, until I was actually writing this scene, I didn't know her name would work like that.) Aiden whispers in my left ear, "Rawwwrrr."
And holy merde. He growls soooo sexy. The thought crosses my mind that I would like to make him growl for real.
In bed. (Bad Keatyn.) Annie says, "That's adorable and using school colors is brilliant. We will make some cool signs for you."
"I might be going to New York this weekend. Would you mind doing them?"
"No, not at all. We'll have fun!"
Then if my mind wasn't already in the gutter, Aiden whispers from behind me, "So what about fuck?" (**Fans self.) And for a second, I thought he asked me to, well, you know.
My face got all hot, I felt like I was going to faint. I grab Annie's diet coke from her desk and down some of it.
Regain my senses.
"Well, there isn't just one word. And it sorta depends how you mean it. How do you mean it?"
"Um, what if I wanna tell your boyfriend to fuck off?" (For this scene, I actually bought a book called Dirty French. It's also the book that Keatyn later gives to Aiden as a gift when he gets a good grade. And he starts learning the words and using them on her.) "He's not officially my boyfriend, but you would say, Casse-toi! which really is a nicer way to say it. It's more like saying, piss off.
Miss Praline starts the class and is blabbering on about french club and not actual french class, so Aiden passes me a note saying, What if I get mad, like stub my toe and wanna yell, fuck?
My hottie god even has perfect penmanship.
I reply: Then it would probably be more like, Pute!
Annie grabs it, writes: What about - I don't give a fuck?
Something like, je m'en fou.
She reads it, hands it to Aiden.
What if I wanna fuck?
I stupidly turn around and look in those green eyes, see that naughty grin.
well to fuck would be, Foutre, or Niquer, which is a shortened form of the french word for fornicate.
And if you wanna brag to your friends, after you do that with a girl, you know, assuming you're into that and not boys, you would say, Je l'ai nique, which means, I effed her. I'd have to look up the correct terminology for gay boy slang. Fraid I don't know that.
I drop the note over my shoulder on to his desk. And smile to myself.
You know damn well I'm not gay. So what if when you are tutoring me in french, and you decide you wanna do it with me. What would you say?
That's not gonna happen.
Yeah, it is, eventually. We'll be dating by then, but trust me, it's gonna happen. And when you say it to me in French, I wanna make sure I know what you're saying. You know, when you start begging me.
Annie grabs the note. Aiden!!!! OMG!!! But uh, what would you say?
I reply. Baise moi. (Fuck me.) But if you wanted to ask someone in a nicer way, Voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir. (Do you want to sleep with me tonight?) So tutoring tonight, my room, 4 o'clock.
So tutoring tonight, library, 4:00.
I have a new nickname for you, Boots, it's B-Moi. People will think it's Boots and French combined. But you know what it means.
Yes, I do know what it means. You are delusional and forgot to take your meds today. (But I love you.) It's sorta like fate 2:55.
Looking out at the bleachers filled with students, praying I do well. I would pray that I don't trip, or fall down, don't forget a kick, or miss a step, but Mom read some child rearing book recently and says we aren't allowed to say don't or can't anymore. They say when you tell someone don't fall down, that's what they focus on, and that's what they do. So I'm telling myself, do the routine perfectly, kick as high as you can, have a smile on your face, don't panic, um, I mean, be calm.
Okay, it's time!!!!
I run out there, smile big and the audience becomes a blur AND I DID IT!!! I did the dance routine perfectly, well not completely perfectly, I was a little late on one kick, but that was because for a second I was blinded by Aiden's smile.
We jump around with the cheerleaders. Coach, Brad and Dawson walk out to huge cheers. While Brad is speaking, Dawson looks over and winks at me.
Afterwards, I meet Aiden in the Library.
Annie texts me, and so does Brad.
Brad: Your ideas rock. I'll go with you to talk to the dean about it. This weekend?
Me: Gonna be out of town. Monday, maybe? Also, you're speech was awesome. Very motivational.
Brad: :) thanks, your dance was awesome. A lot of the girls messed up. You didn't.
Me: I was slow on one kick, but I don't think anyone noticed. Kick ass tonight!!
Annie: We have a sign done. Want you to see it. Where are you?
Me: Library tutoring Aiden.
Annie: Oh la la. Be right there. (Annie so knows....) Aiden says, "What's up, B-Moi?"
"You know it almost sounds like you're saying be mine."
"I sorta am, aren't I? Well, in a more intimate way." (I love their banter.) "Okay, so when we travel to France someday, I'm thrilled that you'll be able to cuss and get laid, but we need to focus on your vocab words for this week."
"You want to go to France with me, huh?" (OMG, you guys. This scene! This scene sets so much in motion for later books. Sort of like fate. Top of the Eiffel Tower, Sunset. Him asking her to winter formal. I also love how the library becomes a special place to them.) "What?"
"You said when we travel to France someday."
"I, uh, you know what I meant."
"Yeah, I do." He gives me a blazing smile. Like full wattage, bigger than I have yet to see. It like radiates up to the top of his blonde spikes. "We're gonna go to France together. Maybe I'll ask you to marry me there. Top of the Eiffel Tower, sunset?"
"I don't even like you, why would you ask me to marry you?"
"You love me."
I laugh out loud.
I get a couple shushes from the people sitting near us.
"Come on, Boots, you know I'm right."
"I know nothing of the sort. And you really need to focus, or you will not be passing french, and I'm not the kind of girl that likes to fail."
"And I'm not the kind of boy who will take no for an answer."
I blow out a big breath of air, blow my bangs up off my face and just start french. "Okay, so chicken is what?"
"Poulet."
"Good. How bout bread?"
"Pain."
"Right but say it like this....pain. It's more like pan, but the n is more nasal sounding."
"Pain. You're going to be a pain in the ass, I can tell."
"Hey, I'm helping you here."
"How do you know I'm not purposely failing, so you will tutor me?"