I knock on her window softly to let her know I'm here.
She slides out of it. I catch her. She looks so damn sexy. Her hair is down and curled. She's wearing jean shorts, a thermal shirt, and the boots she wore the day we met.
"What are you doing?" she says.
"Just catching you," I reply sweetly.
She tries to push out of my arms, but I hold firm. "You can let go now," she says.
I gently drop her to the ground and look at her feet. "You're wearing boots."
"I wear boots all the time."
"Not those boots. You haven't worn those since the day we met."
She rolls her eyes. "I've been sort of mad at them."
I tilt my head to the side and squint at her. "Mad at your boots? You can't be mad at those boots."
"I'm not anymore. We made up."
"Well, that's good to hear. Let's get French done so we can go party." I place my hand on the small of her back to guide her, causing her to jump.
"You're awfully jumpy tonight."
"Stop touching me then," she states a little too emphatically.
I do as she asks for the moment and lead her up to the chapel, which is open all night. Plus, it's sort of our place.
I know she probably thinks that since Dawson is gone I'm going to try to monopolize her time, but I'm not.
I study with her in an almost business-like fashion, working mostly on my word enunciation for the verbal portion of our upcoming test.
My phone keeps vibrating throughout our studying. I may have purposely texted a lot of people, knowing they would text me back while we were here.
I close my book. "I think I've got it. I'll keep working on it this weekend, but at least I know the proper way to say everything now." I ignore her and glance at my phone, which is loaded with texts. From girls. And Logan and Nick. And more girls. "I better get going."
"Um, okay. Yeah, me too," she says, glancing at her phone like there's something important in it. But I know better. If Dawson had texted her, she would have replied right away. And I haven't heard her phone ding or buzz since we arrived.
We walk to the Cave in the moonlight. When we get to the clearing, I say, "Thanks for helping me. Have a good night." Then I walk away, heading straight toward Nick and Logan, who are fortunately standing with a group of cheerleaders.
Unfortunately for me, a drunk Chelsea wraps her arms around my neck in greeting.
While her arms are still around me, I glance at Keatyn. She's standing alone. A quick look around tells me her friends are already paired off for the night.
"Let's get out of here, go back to your dorm," Chelsea says, slurring. She's even drunker than I thought.
"Um, hold that thought," I tell her, pushing her aside and grabbing a joint out of Logan's hand and taking a hit. Ashley bounces up to me, shoves her boobs out, and hands me a shot.
We clink our glasses and slam the shots together. Then she starts dancing in front of me, grabbing my hands and trying to get me to dance with her.
What the hell, I think, and break out a little arm shimmy, causing Logan and Ashley to cheer.
I manage to avoid both Chelsea and Ashley's blatant offers to hook up by telling them I have some catching up to do. I sit down in a circle on a log next to Logan. He starts telling a story about how we snuck out during our soccer camp last summer. I can't help but laugh and help him tell the story.
Keatyn is directly in my line of site though, and I watch as she talks to Shark and then my sister, the three of them sharing a joint.
I say I have to take a leak, leaving the group to go sit next to my sister. Shark hands me a joint. I don't think twice.
A girl leans down in front of Shark and whispers drunkenly, Let's hook up. He stands up, tells us, Duty calls, and leaves with the girl.
Peyton gives me a look. I nod at her, and she says, "There's Brad. I need to talk to him."
Leaving me sitting alone with Keatyn.
"Where's the harem?" she asks sarcastically, as her phone vibrates.
As she reads it, sadness washes over her face. Her phone drops to the ground.
I pick it up and read the messages.
Dawson: I lobe you Keatyn: I love you too.
Dawson: I druk.
Keatyn: You're drunk? Where are you?
Dawson: no shoes./'
Keatyn: Where are you?
Dawson: gurl bed partzy I can't help but shake my head as I hand her back her phone. She deserves so much better than this.
"Um . . ." She looks at me, like she expects me to say something reassuring, but I can't. I just feel bad for her.
And I wish that she knew I would never treat her like that.
I watch as she texts.
Keatyn: Your brother is "druk," can't find his shoes, and is in a "gurl's bed at a partzy."
Riley: Shit.
Keatyn: Yeah.
"Are you okay?" I ask her.
"Not really. Have fun with the harem. I'm heading back to my room."
"I'll walk you. The harem will wait."
She shakes her head. "No, I'm fine," she lies as tears form in her eyes. She turns around and runs through the trees.
I run after her. When she gets to her dorm window, she closes her eyes, leans against the side of the building, and starts to slide down into the grass.
I'm there to catch her. I pin her against the brick wall, slide my leg between hers, and push my chest tightly against her, holding her up.
She looks up at me, taking in my lips like she wants to kiss me.
I just shake my head, wrap my arms around her, and hug her.
Just hug her.
Which causes her to start sobbing. "I'm never, ever telling a guy I love him again. It's like I'm love cursed."
I nuzzle my face into her hair and whisper soothingly, "You're not love cursed. You just aren't-" I stop myself from saying it. I don't want her jumping from him to me just because she's upset.
"Just aren't what?"
I sigh deeply, barely believing I'm doing this again. "Maybe he's just drunk at the party. If he was hooking up, I doubt he'd stop to text you."
"I think the hooking up is over, and now he can't find his shoes."
"So you don't trust him?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, when he left, did you trust him?"
"I did. He told me over and over not to worry. To trust him. That he loves me."
"If he really loves you, he won't cheat on you. Even if he's drunk. You should have faith in the people you love. Maybe if you did, they wouldn't let you down."
She pulls out of my embrace and turns her back to me. "I'm going to cry alone in my room now. Thanks for your kind words," she says, but then she swings back around. And now, she's pissed. "So it's my fault if he cheats?! That sounds like the kind of zen bullshit the Keats guy would tell me. I didn't expect it from you. But I should have. It fits your whole player thing. The whole it's-never-my-fault, take-no-responsibility-for-your-actions-because-it's-easier-to-blame-fate, or cosmic forces, or someone else, than it is to admit that you just suck. Good night."
She needs to chill out. I run my hands down the sides of her arms, trying to calm her down a little.
"Boots, I didn't mean it that way. I meant that-" I shove my hands through my hair, trying to figure out the best way to say it. "Maybe the guy you're with isn't worthy of your love."
"Yeah, maybe."
Her phone starts buzzing and buzzing.
"Who is it?" I ask.
"It's Riley," she says, answering. "Hey, Riley."
She's still close to me, so I can hear their entire conversation.
"Where are you?" Riley asks.
"About to go in my room."
"Cam wants to talk to you. I've got him on conference with me. Say hi, Cam."
Cam says, "Don't be mad at him."
"He's texting me from a girl's bed!" she shouts into the phone. And I can't help but love it. Because she's right. It's bullshit.
"Yeah, a bed that he's in alone," Camden counters.
"No offense, Cam, but Riley told me about you. How you didn't think Dawson should have a girlfriend. I get it. You're a player. You want to have fun and not be tied down."
He laughs. "Actually, I'd love to be tied down." I hear him yell out to whoever is at the party. "Anyone got any rope? I want to be tied up."
"I said tied down," Keatyn says.
"Close enough," he replies with another laugh.
"It's been great talking to you," Keatyn says, still pissed. "Tell your brother when he sobers up not to bother calling me."
Go, Keatyn!
"And you need to cool your panties. He didn't hook up with anyone. In fact, he sucks as a wingman now."
"What do you mean?" she asks.
"He won't shut up about you. It's hard to pick up girls when one of us is all panty-whipped and talking about his amazingly hot girlfriend. So I did what I had to do. Got him drunk. Put him to bed." Shit.
Keatyn lets out an audible sigh and tears of relief flood her eyes. "He's really alone?"
"Yes. He's crazy about you. I'm not gonna let him screw that up. At least not until I meet you. I gotta go. Just got a taker on the rope."
Riley lets out a loud laugh. "You okay?"
"Do you think Cam's telling the truth and not just covering for him?" she asks.
"Yes, I do."
"Then, yes, I'm okay. Thanks, Riley."
She hangs up, and I look at her expectantly. Like I didn't hear what just transpired. I want her take on it.
"His brother said he's a bad wingman," she says. "That he kept talking about me in front of the girls. So he got him drunk and put him to bed."
I can't believe she'd forgive him that easily.
I cross my arms in front of my chest and clench my teeth to keep from going off. "Well, that's great."