Shit. He is mad at me.
Again.
Are you effing me?
6:10 pm I'm in the car with Dawson. He decided that he's going to romance me, I guess, so we're alone in the car. Dawson has a sweet car, bad ass BMW, modified with all sorts of special body molding and aftermarket customization. He's got the radio turned up, his hand on my knee. We turn out onto the highway, and he turns down the radio.
"So, we're alone. We're out on the highway. Anything come to mind?"
And I'm thinking and well, no, nothing comes to mind.
"Uh?"
"I'm driving, you maybe want to do something fun to me? Something a little naughty?"
Then I get it. He wants road head. Are you effing me?
"Sure why not," I say. "That sounds very romantic." And I sigh, look at the passenger side window, and fight back tears. But I don't win the fight. I turn and face Dawson and say, "Hey, I don't feel well, take me back to school please."
He sees my tears, "What's wrong, why are you crying? Oh, I was just joking."
"No you weren't. You didn't open the door for me. You didn't make any plans for tonight. And your idea of romance is asking me to blow you while you drive. We're done, Dawson. This isn't gonna work. I deserve more than this."
He lets out a big sigh, puts his hand up to his face, pulls off the side of the road, turns to me. "Keatie, I was just joking. Can we not joke anymore? Have fun? We had sex the other night. It was amazing, like always."
"I'm sorry. That was my fault. You make me want you, Dawes. But I shouldn't of. It's not fair to you."
"How is it not fair to me?"
"It makes you feel like you have an advantage. I'm sleeping with her, she's mine. It's giving you the wrong impression. It makes you think things are okay with our relationship when they're not."
"I've done stuff for you. The necklace, the cake."
"It's not about buying me stuff. We just never dated. And that's not your fault. I never gave you the chance to woo me. I was upset about Brooklyn, came to your place, and you made me feel amazing at a time I was feeling really bad about myself. I slept with you way too soon. And the boom, we were together. And then you were telling me you loved me, and we're going to meet my parents, and then Boom, we're done. Then I couldn't resist you the other night. I do love you. I want to feel close to you. But I want to feel close to you in ways other than just sex. I don't think we should have sex for awhile. Does that make any sense?"
"I never wanted to hurt you."
"I know. I don't want to hurt you either."
"I hate the thought of you kissing anyone else." Then he kisses me. Sweet, I'm sorry kisses. All mixed up with my tears. As usual with our kisses, they quickly turn from sweet to full of desire. He pushes his seat back, pulls me over, so I'm on his lap.
Pretty soon I'm doing exactly what I just told him I wouldn't do.
And it feels amazing. (Oh, this scene made me cringe to write. I have to say. But she is so torn. And just . . . I don't even know. When I was writing it, I was ready for her to just be with Aiden already, but dang Dawson kept being all sexy.) "Just so you know, I'm taking you to a cool little place for dinner tonight. I am planning to woo you, and not just with sex."
"Really?" And I start crying again.
"Why does that make you cry?"
I sniffle, cry through the words, "Because it means I don't have to feel bad for what we just did."
"And you feel bad? How can you feel bad about something that feels so good?"
God, I wish it was that simple.
Should it be that simple?
"Because it's not that simple."
"How much simpler can it get, Keatie? I love you. We have sex. Amazing, like mind blowingly good sex. I love to hang out with you. I'm sorry if it seems like all we do is hang out, but I just feel so good, so comfortable with you, that I haven't made a big deal of going out on dates. But I'm not going to lose you. I'm serious. If that means I have to pull out the big guns and fight for you, that's what I'll do.
I shake my head, dry my tears and feel so much better.
He drives a bit further and takes me to a place that seriously looks like a hole in the wall. The outside is rundown, needs painting, needs a new sign. But I notice the parking lot is packed with cars. It's a casual mexican restaurant and there is a long line of people waiting to get in, but Dawson walks up to the front, says a few words, shakes the guy's hand and motions for me to follow him. The guy leads us through the restaurant and then out a sliding glass door.
I now see why the place is so packed. There is a huge courtyard under a glass roof. The glass roof is sparkling clean, and you can see the colors of the sky, clouds floating by as the sun turns them various shades of pink. There's little twinkle lights everywhere. On the ceiling, in the huge potted trees. We are seated at a table that is set between a couple trees and has a feeling of seclusion. Dawson pulls out my chair for me and grins at me as I sit down.
"This place is very cool. How did you ever find it?"
"I wanted to take you somewhere special. I've been looking up restaurants all afternoon."
I lean over and kiss him. "Thank you."
He grins, "We're not done yet."
He orders us chips and queso, and we happily talk and munch. He tells me about how his little brother just got caught sneaking a girl into his room at midnight, how he is very grounded, but his dad is secretly proud.
Sexiness runs in family, I think.
Some men playing mexican music stroll up to us and start serenading us. I'm always embarrassed my this, but Dawson loves it. He smiles and then stands up and puts out his hand for me to join him. I take his hand, and he pulls me into his arms to dance with him.
We got to the game a bit late. The second quarter had just started, and we were down by a touchdown. It started to sprinkle rain. The rain got harder, the field got muddier, Dawson held me tighter. Pretty soon it's the end of the game, the score tied, there's only a few ticks left on the clock. We were at the 26 yard line, and Coach sent Aiden in to kick a field goal for the win.
He walked out onto the field, looked at the goal post, stopped, and looked at me. Then he did a complicated looking thing with his hands. His thumbs and pointer fingers formed touching double o's, then the rest of his fingers formed sort of a bridge above the o's. Sort of like you would make a heart with your hands, but I have no idea what this would be. He took a few sideways steps, the ball was snapped, Logan lined up the laces, and he kicked it straight through the goal posts. (This is adorable.) The guys all went rushing out on the field to congratulate him, and we all cheered.
I'm laying on my bed trying to mimic what he did with his hands. When all of a sudden, I see it. I'm pretty sure he was making a four leafed clover.
My phone buzzes: Hottie God: You need to sneak out and congratulate me.
Me: That thing you did, before you kicked it. Was that a four leafed clover?
Hottie God: The cave. In an hour.
This is crazy. I had an amazing night with Dawson. I really shouldn't go. (But she does.) Take off your pants.
12:30am But I do.
It's stopped raining, but is hazy and chilly. I trudge back through the trees, getting my boots covered with mud. Aiden isn't here yet. And I wonder about fate.
Is it fate he's not here?
I sit on a damp stump, feel the back of my sweats and my thong get wet.
Is there anything worse really than a damp ass?
This is not very romantic.
I hear the brush moving, and it sounds like someone is coming. I get a momentary rush of worry about getting caught out here after curfew.
But the tree limbs part, and Aiden walks into the clearing. He's carrying a rolled up sleeping bag.
"No way I'm sleeping outside in this weather," I tease.
"The backing is waterproof. So we won't get wet when we sit down."
"Too late for that." I turn around and show him my wet backside.
"There's nothing worse than a damp ass," he says. Which are the exact words I just thought a few seconds ago.
The fates are so toying with me. (Eek! This scene excites me. One of my favorites of all. The best kiss of her entire life. Sorry, keep reading...) He spreads out the sleeping bag, with the shiny side down, then starts taking his sweatpants off.
Uh, holy shit. What is this?
I watch though. He has THE best legs at school. They have just enough light blonde hair to be masculine, but not enough to be hairy. Dawson is dark, his lean toward the more hairy looking side. Although he does shave everything else, thankfully.
"What are you doing?" I say stupidly.
"Take off your pants," he replies.
"Isn't this moving a little fast? I mean we've barely made out."
He laughs and shakes his head at me. "Silly, Boots, I was going to let you wear my sweats. See, I have athletic shorts underneath."
"Oh, um, I..."
"What? It's not that big of a deal."
"My underwear are wet too."
He licks his lip and grins at me. Laughs. He's never made this facial gesture in front of me. And the combination of his mouth and tongue both looking at me at the same time. I can't even tell you what it does. It's like my stomach flips, like I was on a roller coaster, and we just flipped upside down going 75 mph.
You had sex with Dawson tonight, you idiot. Thought he was the one.
What is wrong with me?
I need off this ride and fast. Have you ever been on a roller coaster, upside down and all of a sudden it feels like maybe your seatbelt, that little piece of webbed material, isn't quite as tight as it should be? And you feel yourself slide a fraction of an inch, and you wait to fall to your death before it tightens up again?
I feel like I'm ready to fall out of the roller coaster.
Plummet to my death.
And I briefly think what would my heaven be? When my dad died, Mom explained heaven as this amazing place where Daddy was living his best days over and over. Like the day we got ice cream and rode the ferris wheel. When we would walk along the beach, the three of us, holding hands.
And my mind flashes to Aiden, after our dinner, gliding a feather all over me. That is my idea of heaven. Not sex on the side of the road. (Which should tell you something?) Hell, with the way I have been behaving, they would probably bar the gates of heaven when I walked up to them. Like the big security bouncers I saw at the Sundance film festival. "Sorry, you're not on the list."
"You can take them off too. I won't look," Aiden says, referring to my wet undies.
So I do. And sadly, he doesn't even attempt to sneak a peek. He hands me his warm sweats, and I slide them on. And I say what's on my mind before I think better. "Have you ever been naked in these sweats?"
He pulls me onto the sleeping bag with him and kisses me in response.
Pretty soon we're kissing passionately. The first time he's felt like a normal boy.
Like a normal horny boy.
He stops, leans up on one arm, "So you figured it out, huh?"
And I want to say, That you are a god, yes. I know.
He makes half the symbol with his fingers. It looks incomplete. I mirror it with my hand and hold it up to his. And when our fingers touch, I swear to God in heaven, a spark of lightening shot from my hand to his.
"A four leaf clover," I say, breathlessly. "Well sorta."
He rolls up on top of me, straddling me. It was an effortless move.
I look at him, my eyes wide. "Use both your hands, make the double o's."
So I do. Then he puts one hand on each side of mine and forms two more o's. And now it does look like a four leaf clover.
"That does look like a clover," I tell him. (I just gotta know. You were doing this with your hands and trying to make it while you were reading this the first time, weren't you? It's okay. I do it, too.) "It's going to take both of us together to make this work." he says wisely. "I heard Dawson was taking you on an actual date thing tonight, before the game."
"Yeah, he says he's going to fight for me."
"Doesn't matter," Aiden says, still forming the clover, "I'm going to win."
"It sorta looks like our hands are having sex," I laugh, "like the way they are joined together, kinda.... uh, never mind."
"Lets talk about sex."
Just him saying sex almost leaves me more breathless than actual sex with Dawson.
"Uh, okay."
He leans down, his mouth about twelve inches from mine. "We're going to take things slow."
"I want to take things slow. Like if you were just hoping for sex from me, you should probably halt the wooing process."
"Does that mean you also won't be having sex with anyone else during the wooing process?"