Kiss Me

Like, poor Peyton. Her college boyfriend is probably cheating on her.



Then she says, “It seems like all they want to do is drink beer and party. I’m over that. I want a guy to walk me to class every day. Plus, Jake has gotten so hot. And since Kate married Will, royalty is very in style.”



She glances at me. Lets her eyes trail down my uniform with disgust. Like I’m destroying the school’s reputation with my wardrobe. And I look really cute today. Plaid skort. Tory Birch silk georgette blouse with black piping. Black cardigan. Black over-the-knee socks. Adorable short black cowboy boots with silver star studs. A black studded cross body bag. Thick black leather cuff with silver and crystals.



I ignore her look and turn toward Dawson. He’s been acting weird today. Almost ignoring me. I want to talk to him about it, but there is no way I’m going to say something about it now, where Whitney can hear.



I look down at the table and wonder why I’m still sitting here.



“Hey, I’m gonna go sit with Dallas and Riley,” I say quietly to Dawson.



As I walk away, I hear Whitney say to him, “Dawson, Dawson . . .”



I can tell she is getting ready to slam him, or probably me. Either way, I don’t want to hear it.



I sit down at the boys’ table next to Riley.



A few seconds later, Dawson slides into the seat next to me and sighs loudly. “Did you see the pictures on Facebook?”



“What pictures?”



“The ones Annie took of us kissing.”



“Uh, no.”



“Everyone has seen them. Everyone is talking about them. I’m kinda freaking out about this.”



“Why are you freaking out? Wait. Are you saying you don’t want anyone to know you’ve kissed me? Is that the problem? Is that why you’re acting so weird today?”



He sighs again. And it pisses me off because I realize what he’s not saying. He’s upset Whitney saw them.



Honestly, if I were smart, I wouldn’t want her to see them either. I really don’t want to battle her.



I just want to go to school, make some friends, and try not to get killed in the process.



Is that so much to ask?



He says, “I, uh, no, it’s not that. She tagged us both. She added titles to the pictures like Cutest couple EVER, SOOOO ROMANTIC!!!!, and Submitting to MTV Awards as the BEST KISS OF THE YEAR! I know that people have seen us kiss and stuff. I don’t know. I guess I just wasn’t prepared for it to be quite so public.”



Public?



He’s embarrassed of me?



Me?!



Wow.



I realize now why it seemed like people were murmuring behind me during my classes this morning. Why some girl I’ve never met asked me if I was going out with Dawson.



Who knew that while my head was sleeping happily on my pillow other events were occurring, unfolding, whatever you would call it. These photos are like the shot heard ’round the world. Honestly, I don’t know what the shot heard ’round the world was. Seems like I studied that at some point during History. I can’t remember, but I’m pretty sure that this Facebook post was like that shot.



Remind me to never go to bed so early.



Dawson is looking down at the table. He’s fidgeting, rubbing his fingers together nervously. He knows he’s being a jerk. And I know for sure that he’s not over Whitney, no matter what he says.



I touch his hand and say slowly, “Hey, don’t worry about it. If you’re that embarrassed, untag yourself, and I’ll make sure that we don’t kiss in public—or in private, for that matter—ever again.”



I shove my chair away from the table.



Get up.



Throw my untouched lunch into the trash.



As if I haven’t had enough, Whitney meets me at the trash. She tosses a single napkin in the barrel.



“Great photos on Facebook.” Then she lowers her voice. “Obviously, he’s embarrassed. I told you, you’re just fresh meat. I remember how he always posted pictures of us on Facebook. He still loves me, you know.”



I don’t say a word to her, just storm outside, to a bench far away from the scene of the crime.



I very feel alone. I look at my phone, sigh, and text Brooklyn.



Me: Sorry for the other night. I’m still kind of reeling from everything that’s happened. From my life being turned upside down. I’m confused. You say things that confuse me. Half the time you act like you want to be just friends. The other half, it seems like you want us to be more.



B