Mom: Love you, more!
I turn on my lamp on and shine it at my bare wall. I'm ready to hang up the main decor for my side of my room.
It's a 14 foot by 10 foot poster of the ocean. Brooklyn's dad was laying on the sand when he took the photo that we had blown up and mounted. There's a heart drawn in the sand in front of him, which I never noticed in the small photo he showed me. Written in it is B + K.
I start to get tears in my eyes, but I keep working on getting it hung up anyways. I turn the main light on and appraise it. My roommate moans and pulls the covers over her head.
It looks fantastic. It's the ocean right out in front of my house, and there's a big wave coming into shore and way out in the distance is me and Brooklyn, the wave just starting to curl over us.
I sit on my bed and stare at it. Feel homesick. Decide to make my bed. I have my poster hung, my bed made, and am about to start unpacking clothes, and possibly call Brooklyn.
My phone vibrates.
I have a text message from someone called, The love of my life <3 The love of my life <3:where are you?
Me: who is this?
The love of my life <3:Dallas, duh:) Me: thats not what it says in my phone The love of my life <3:) come meet me outside your dorm.
Me: I was gonna unpack.
The love of my life <3You can do that after curfew, come on.
Me: you talked me into it :) So I go.
I figure it's all the boys out there. We'll probably go kick around a soccer ball or something, but when I get out there, I see it's just Dallas.
He gives me a naughty grin.
"What? Why do you look like we're about to do something that could get us both in trouble?"
He really is a cutie. And really does remind me of a young Brooklyn.
He opens his hand and shows me a neatly rolled joint.
"Wanna join me?"
"Uh, yeah. But where? I don't want to get in trouble my first day."
I already got the scoop on where to go, come on. He grabs my hand, which for some strange reason feels very natural, and we walk hand in hand behind my dorm and into some woods I hadn't noticed before. There's a skinny, but well worn path that we follow, and pretty soon, we are in a well hidden clearing. I smell the unmistakeable smell of weed, and know it's not just me and Dallas that are gonna get a little baked.
There is a group of about eight guys sitting in the clearing on a bunch of downed tree logs. And just one girl, Peyton.
At first, I'm a bit nervous because she is like my group leader. I don't want to get in trouble, but then the gorgeous dark haired boy (Hello, Dawson!) she was sitting with at lunch passes her a joint, and she expertly takes a hit.
Guess she won't get me into trouble.
Dallas still is holding my hand and leads me over to the other side of the little circle. We sit down on some logs. He lights up and passes it to me.
A tall brown haired guy, with really massive arm muscles and kind of a beaky nose walks over to us. Dallas stands up, says, "Hey, Ace."
"Thought we told you freshman aren't supposed to be back here." He says freshman like it's a dirty word.
I smile at Ace, who is looking me up and down very predatorily. Specifically at my long, tanned legs. I kinda don't like it.
Dallas is super smooth though, I'm impressed.
I hand him back the joint. He takes a big hit and blows the smoke out toward Ace's face and says, "Chill, dude. We won't bother you. Just wanted some place to smoke, so we won't get caught."
But Ace is probably the asshole in the group and clearly hasn't smoked yet. He is way too uptight. Dallas hands me back the joint, so I hand it out to Ace, toss my hair a little and then smile at Ace seductively, "Here, we'll even share."
Ace appraises me, takes a hit, mellows a bit, then hands me back the joint and says, "What the fuck, with legs like that, you can come here anytime."
I nod a thank you.
And thankfully, Ace goes and sits back down with his friends.
Dallas and I are smoking and giggling about Riley and all the corny things he said trying to impress me. And then I remember the hottie god. I tell Dallas, "So first he is telling me how he's this sensitive guy, then he said I look like his next girlfriend. And I can't help it, it's not just the weed, I mean him telling me that was like classic. Something for the movies. How NOT to impress a girl." I'm leaning against Dallas and having a bit of a giggle fit, when Dallas pokes my side. I look up And there standing in front of me, not giggling, is the God of all Hotties himself.
Oh shit. Busted.
I don't know what to say.
I go with, "Uh, hey, um, Aiden, right?"
He nods and walks away.
Dallas and I giggle some more.
And somehow, when our heads are together laughing, Dallas starts kissing me. And Dallas is a surprisingly good kisser.
Like really good.
He's definitely had some practice. And I start to wonder what else he has done and how good he might be at it.
Friday, August 26th A Perfect Four Leaf Clover 7:30am Up early, ready for a full day. Even though my body is saying, Keatyn, it's 4:30am at home, please go back to bed.
But I can't. I'm too excited. (So am I! I want to go to Eastbrooke!) This morning is when we meet our student leaders for the school tour, pointers, etc. I think this is where I will see Peyton.
I walk into the gym, and we break up into our groups. Our group is all girls, and Peyton is excitedly talking to us about the dance, about all the different clubs, about things like curfews, visiting the boys dorms, places the boys like to hang out. I find it all very useful.
I do notice that not once in all that does she mention the smoking spot we were at last night.
Then she leads us to the "cafe", which is what they call the dining hall, where booths have been set up for each activity, so you can learn about and sign up to be in clubs, activities, and sports tryouts. All the extra curricular activities are represented.
I sign up for student council, checking the box that says I'm interested in running for office. Peyton says, "Leadership material, good girl."
I sign up for french club, spirit club, latin club, circle of friends, which looks kinda dumb, but I figured worse case, I meet some more people. Oh, and of course, soccer tryouts.
Peyton asks me if I might be interested in dance team.
"Could I do both that and soccer?"
"Sure you can. I'm captain of both teams. I'm also student council secretary, president of the french club, founded the literary club and am on the highly coveted social committee. Something you are hand selected to join. Something you would probably be good at beings you were the first girl to discover the cave."
"The cave?"
"The place you were at last night." She has that keep it on the down low look in her eyes. I nod. Got it.
She signs me up for literary club because I told her I love to read, and then she says, "Come on, try out for dance. We have three spots for freshman, and so far only fifteen girls have signed up. Your odds are pretty good. Plus, you have the body of a dancer. Do you dance?"
"Well, I took ballet when I was little, and some other dance classes in middle school, so yeah, but mostly now I do yoga and kick boxing."
"Just try," she says, and puts my name on the paper. Her enthusiasm is catching, and she has all of her girls signed up for all sorts of clubs that fit their individual interests.
That and the tours took up most of the morning, we went to lunch, but I couldn't eat a thing. I can never eat before a soccer game. And I'm not that nervous for soccer tryouts, but yet, I am.
Apparently since the school is smallish, everyone makes the team. Which makes me feel better. At least I know if the competition is really stiff, that I won't look like a loser that didn't make it. And I know if I work hard, I will play. So basically tryouts are just to determine your level of ability, and for the coaches to decide what team they want you on. Freshman, JV or Varsity.
I'm all suited up and jogging a few laps around the field, when the hottie comes strolling down the bleachers with some friends to watch tryouts.
Dammit. Doesn't he have anything better to do?
But Peyton, his sister is helping with tryouts, as are a few other older girls from the team that are here to help with orientation.
So it's not like he's here just to watch me.
Except he is staring at me, then gives me a little wave.
Shit. Focus.
Do not let the hottie distract you. (How could he not?) He's a player.
He's a player.
But I can't quit thinking about how he looked last night. His eyes with that hurt puppy dog look when I was telling Dallas about his lameness.
I close my eyes and picture myself on a surfboard, slicing through the water. I'm instantly calm. And I don't look back in the bleachers because I don't want to know if he is still there or not.
Pretty soon, I'm in the zone. Focusing on the technical drills the coach has us doing. She times us running the 40 yard dash, then kicks us one ball after another that we are then to kick into the unguarded goal. We do penalty shots, headers, dribbling, and then she splits us up, and we scrimmage. I was told to play the center attack position against a very solid looking girl. The kind of girl that looks like she could tear my head off and spit it out before lunch.
But the girl is surprisingly cool.
She shakes my hand and says, "Good luck." But then she adds, "You're gonna need it, skinny minnie."
But here's the thing. I might not have brute strength, but skinny minnies can run wayyyy faster than brute strength. I pretty much embarrass her by stealing the ball, dribbling it down the field, and passing it to an open teammate. The teammate shrugs off a defender and passes it back to me, and boom, I score.
And made it look easy.
I feel pretty good about tryouts. I'm really hoping to at least make JV.
I drag my sweaty ass toward the locker room. I have exactly thirty seven minutes to regroup, eat, change, and get to dance team tryouts.
As I round the corner to enter the field house, there is Hottie again.
"Are you stalking me?" I ask with a laugh.
God, he's cute.
I hope to hell he's stalking me. And that's probably the right place to hope to, since I will probably end up in hell when I fall in love with him, and he dumps me. (I didn't include this line since in the published version she was more sensitive about being stalked. But I love the line about hoping to hell and ending up there.) He holds up a sack. And grins.
"What's that?"
"Well, my sister told me she talked you into signing up for dance team, and I know tryouts start pretty soon, so I brought you some lunch, since I know you didn't eat anything earlier."
How did you know that?? That's what I want to ask, but what I say is, "Really? Wow. That's really nice of you." I sit down on a bench with him.
Oh. My. Gosh.
Is that not the sweetest thing evvvverrrr???
"I have an ulterior motive."
"I'm not stripping for you after the dance," I tease.
"Well I would hope not, or them I will have to call you by your slutty name."
I roll my eyes at him.
"So do all new freshmen get such a welcome?" (She was a freshman in my original version. I had thought I would do one book for each year of high school. But way too much happened every day to do that! Plus, the sex.) "Only the hot ones." But then his eyes get big when he realizes he pretty much admitted he does this for any girl he deems hot.
Like we thought, total player.
"I bet that means you have a nice full dance card then, and probably won't have time to dance with me."
"That didn't come out right," he sighs. "It was supposed to have been a compliment. I really am way more smooth than this. Like usually."
"Then stop trying so hard. Just tell me about yourself, get to know me. I'm a lot more than some girl that can kick a soccer ball with her boots on."
"My sister said you signed up to run for student council officer. That takes guts to do on your first day, and you don't strike me as one of those girls that has to do like everything. Like those super overachievers."
I know exactly what he means, but I say, "Yeah, I'm pretty much just happy slacking."
"I, uh, God, I didn't mean to suggest you're a slacker."
"I know. I'm just giving you a hard time, and uh, so sorry about last night, at the cave."
"It's okay, I probably deserved it. I did sound pretty lame. Um, why don't you ask me some questions?"