I gaze at her for a beat. "No, I guess it wouldn't," I mutter out.
"You're right though," she says, practically bouncing in her seat. God, she looks beautiful. And happy. The bad part of all this is, I like seeing her happy. Even though I'm miserable. "I would never cheat, but he only asked me to Homecoming. Not to be his girlfriend."
Annie sits down and grabs Keatyn's arm. "That was so adorable! I can't believe you danced with Jake like that! Whitney was seething! It was awesome!"
"Just before it all started, Whitney was telling me that Dawson was going to ask her to Homecoming. Telling me how they bonded in the limo. How they will be King and Queen."
Annie sighs. "Don't do anything to make her mad at you, Keatyn. She's not a nice person."
She nods. One would expect that after what Whitney pulled this weekend, Keatyn would already know that.
She swivels in her seat, facing me again. "You know, it's because of you that Dawson and I are still together. I haven't thanked you properly, but what you did-how you told Riley. Seriously, thank you."
I close my eyes and swallow back my anger, grinding my pencil into my notebook instead of yelling at her for how dumb she is for being with Dawson. How she should be with me. But I can't. Especially now that I know what's she's going through. I lean closer to her and whisper, "I told you in the chapel that I'm done pretend punching your head."
She smiles. It kills me. "I'm glad, Aiden. I don't like when we fight."
I smile back. I can't help it. But at the same time, she's with him. He won. I lost. In fact, tonight at tutoring, I'm going to shove her lies in her face and threaten to tell her Homecoming date all about it. Screw it.
"I'm done fighting," I tell her.
She doesn't say anything in reply. Just slumps her shoulders, like what I said upset her, then turns around.
Wait. Does she want me to fight for her?
This is familiar.
2:45pm I'm at football practice when I notice Keatyn running toward me, her long blonde hair flying behind her. She's changed out of her soccer clothes and into a skimpy dance outfit.
Damn.
"Hey, would it be okay if we did tutoring in your room tonight?" she asks, slightly out of breath. "Everyone is talking about lunch, about how Dawson asked me to Homecoming, and I know if we go to the library we won't get anything done because people will come up to gush about it."
"Uh," I say, trying to take my eyes off her long legs. "I'm sure the library will be fine."
She scrunches up her nose at me, probably because usually I'm trying to get her to come to my room so we can be alone.
But I can't have her come to my room tonight. I have to take down the damn stars first.
"Please," she says with a pout, moving closer to me-so close, I can see the purple glints.
"Oh, fine," I say, tilting my head and watching the shake of her skirt as she walks away.
"Seriously, Dawson is going to pummel you if you keep messing with her," Logan says, snapping me out of my reverie and making me mentally kick myself for agreeing. I swear, it's like her eyes have some power over me.
"It's just tutoring," I tell him.
"Yeah, sure it is. I heard what Ashley said at lunch. I'm sorry you had to watch Dawson ask Keatyn to Homecoming. I know what that feels like."
"Thanks. You're right. She's with Dawson. I need to back off," I lie.
I rush up the stairs, knowing I'm late, to find her sitting against the wall in front of my dorm room, her eyes closed, in the exact spot she was the night of the party when I fixed her lips. I can't help but hope that's what she's thinking about right now.
I slide down the wall next to her. "Sorry, I'm late."
"It's okay," she says with a nod. "I haven't been waiting that long."
I can't help but smile at the two of us sitting here. In the exact same spot. "This is familiar."
"What is?" she says, pretending not to know exactly what I'm talking about.
"Don't you remember the party? When I kissed you right here?" I gently touch her lips with my finger. "Fixed your lips."
"Yeah, I remember, Aiden," she says with a sigh.
She starts to get up, but I grab her arm. "Why don't we just sit out here and study? Um, my room's a mess."
"You're such a liar," she says, calling me on it. "Your room is always perfect."
I roll my eyes, knowing I need to be firm about this. "I think out here would be better."
"Aiden, what is in your room?"
"I just . . . there's something I don't want you to see, okay?"
She squints her eyes at me, looking curious, then gets up and opens my door.
She looks around. Thank God, she doesn't look up. "It looks normal."
Maybe she won't even notice them. "Okay, well, let's get to it." I set my backpack on the ground and pull out my French workbook.
She does the same, taking it out and setting it on my desk.
"It's been an exhausting, crazy day," she says, flopping down on my bed.
Shit. Don't look up. Don't look up.
But part of me wants her to look up.
She looks around my room again then closes her eyes and says, "Okay, so I worked on the first page of our homework during drama today. Do you want to copy it and just go over it? It's mostly review."
"Uh, sure," I reply. "Give me a minute."
I grab her notebook and start copying.
"You don't have the twinkle lights on," she says. "It looks weird."
I glance up from my notebook and notice her looking at the ceiling. Spit catches in my throat, causing me to cough.
I changed my mind. I don't want her to see it.
But she does. Her eyes go wide and she says, "Aiden! Oh my gosh! You put up stars. Are they the glow-in-the-dark kind? I love those! My little sisters had them all over the ceilings of their bedrooms." She keeps studying them, apparently not realizing what it says yet. "Are they in a pattern?"
"Yeah, they're in a pattern." I tap my pencil on my workbook, getting agitated. "You were the one who wanted to come here so we wouldn't get distracted. Let's focus on French. We have a lot to do."
"No. I want to see them lit up first. I'm gonna turn your lights off for a minute."
I immediately move to the bed, blocking her from getting up.
I stare into her eyes, desperately trying to tell her that I love her. That she should be with me. That I spent eight hours yesterday working on this just for her.
"What?" she says.
"I didn't want you to see this, but I know you won't stop bugging me." Because she won't.
"That is true. Can I turn off the lights now?" She smirks at me. She loves getting her way almost as much as I love giving it to her.
"No. We're gonna do this my way. Scoot over to the edge of the bed and then close your eyes."
I know she hates being told what to do, but for once, she complies.
"You promise to keep them closed until I tell you to open them?" I ask. If I'm going to do this, I'm going to do it right.
"Sure."
"Okay." I flip off the light. Then I pull down my blinds and close my blackout drapes.
I look at her, lying perfectly still on my bed, her hair splayed out around her face. The curves of her body rising and falling in all the right places. God, she's beautiful.
I lie down next to her, allowing our shoulders to touch, then reach my pinkie out and take ahold of hers like it's the most natural thing in the world-and it feels like it is. "Open your eyes now."
I turn to face her, watching the emotions cross her face. First, she seems to just take all the stars in, then she squints slightly, and I can tell she's realized what it spells out. She smiles broadly, but then the smile fades, and she frowns.
Her breathing speeds up, and she moves her hand to her stomach, clutching it.
Not what I was expecting.
Just as I'm about to tell her the truth, she leaps off the bed, grabs her workbook and backpack, and bounds toward my door.
But she gets tangled up with my chair.
She and the chair do a sort of slow-motion dance before it darts out from underneath her and sends her crashing to the ground.
I jump off the bed to help her, but she gets up and says, "I'm fine. I'm not feeling well all of a sudden. I'm sorry. I, uh, I have to go. Call Annie if you need help."
Then she rushes out of the door, slamming it behind her.
I turn on the lights, extinguishing the stars, then call Logan to see if he wants to go off campus for dinner. I can't bear facing her again tonight. This was bad enough.
Unfortunately for me, he invites Alicia who invites Ashley, who won't stop talking about Homecoming. I consider taking her to my room after dinner, showing her the damn stars, and asking her.
There's really no reason why I shouldn't.
Logan invites the girls to come to our dorm before curfew. Ashley reaches out and takes my hand. I allow it this time, figuring what the heck. I'll ask her.
We run into Riley in the hallway. He's carrying what appears to be a bloody sock.
"What the hell is that?" Logan asks, the girls agreeing with a screech.
"Keatyn fell and cut her knee. It was bleeding really bad. She had to get five stitches."
I drop Ashley's hand, immediately feeling sick to my stomach. Did she cut her knee when she fell on my chair? Was she so upset that she didn't notice how bad it was?
Why did the stars upset her so much? Is it because she wishes she would have said no to Dawson and yes to me? Or did she think they were for someone else?
"Um, I'm not feeling so well," I say to everyone, rushing off to my room.
When I open my door, the stars are glowing.
I consider grabbing the ladder and ripping them all down. But I can't.
For some damn reason, I just can't.
Tuesday, September 27th Five stitches.
7am I highly doubt Keatyn will be at our Social Committee meeting this morning. I consider going back to sleep, hating how early our meetings are.
But I go anyway, on the off chance that I'll get to see her. Sit with her. Spend time with her.
When I arrive, I see her sitting in a chair, pulling her sock down, and inspecting the gauze over her cut.
I sit down next to her. "Five stitches, huh?"
"Yeah," she slurs.
"Why did you run out of my room and pretend you weren't hurt, when you obviously were?"
"I felt sick. I didn't really know about the cut until I saw it was bleeding."
Peyton and Brad start the meeting, so I stop talking.
Peyton goes through all the details for the Homecoming after party. I watch Keatyn struggling to stay awake.
They must have given her some pain medication.
I let her sleep for a bit, but then wake her toward the end of the meeting.
"Boots," I whisper. "I think you dozed off."