Kiss Me

But as I scroll down my contact list, I see a D. And I hit it instead.



I figure I’ll have to leave him a message, but at least I can hear his voice.



“Are you okay?” Damian answers right away.



“I’m fine. Where are you?”



“Stockholm, getting geared up for tonight’s concert.”



“I just called to thank you. I never thanked you for taking care of me that night. I’ve been a bad friend. I’m sorry.”



“You’ve never been a bad friend to me. And even if you were, I’d forgive you.”



“I broke down and started crying in front of a boy I barely know today.”



“You had a traumatic experience. Not to mention leaving your friends and family and going off on your own. Are you pretending it’s a new adventure?”



I think about my little sisters and want to start crying again. “I forgot it was your dad who started that when we were little. That’s what we told the girls. I’m worried about them. Do you think this is going to work? Have you heard anything? Are you taking precautions?”



“Yes, to all of the above. We have security built in with the tour. I’ll be fine. James sent me a photo of the guy that I shared with the team. Didn’t tell them why, but they will be on the lookout for him and we’ll get a heads up if he leaves the country. James also said that they had eyes on the guy when you left. That he was in his office all day. It worked. He doesn’t know where you went. You’re safe, Keats. Do you like it there? Is it nice?”



“It actually is. I feel safe. And so far people have been nice. And I met this guy.”



“That doesn’t really surprise me.”



I remember what else Brooklyn told me. “You know how I was maybe going to come here when I was a freshman, before I decided to stay in Malibu?”



“Yeah.”



“B suggested that maybe I fought fate. That fate was sending me here now because there was someone I needed to meet. Do you think that could actually be true? Or did he plant a thought in my brain and now I’m trying to fulfill it?”



Damian laughs. “All that fate stuff is just a little too deep for me. I think you make your own fate by the paths that you choose.”



“I’m not on a path that I chose, Damian.”



“That’s true. Just be safe, try to have some fun, and let fate take care of itself. Hey, I have to go. Break a leg.”



“You break a leg too.”



I scroll down and call Garrett.



“Mom said you wanted me to call?”



“Just wanted to let you know that things are looking good. Vincent has been following some of your friends around looking for information—”



I interrupt him. “Garrett! Did you lie to me? You told me my friends would be fine if I didn’t tell them anything. Where did he follow them?”



“Your friends are fine, because they don’t know anything. Thursday night, your friend Cush got together with, I believe it was, his soccer team. Does that sound right?”



“Yes. He’s the team captain.”



“They were having some kind of party at a pizza place. Let me look at the report. Yeah, it says they were having some kind of going away party.”



“Going away party? For who?”



“Not sure. But the report says Vincent sat beside them and listened to their conversation.”



“Did they say anything about me?”



“There was some discussion about you. All rumors. Really, the more rumors Vincent hears the better, as far as I’m concerned. Then, last night he was at the same club as Vanessa and RiAnne. He even danced with Vanessa.”



“Oh my God! I forgot that Vanessa knows him. Well, she met him once anyway.”



“She did? When?”



“When I came back from Europe. We were at The Chateau pool. He was there. Asked me to go to his room to see the script. Vanessa got introduced to him.”



“That shouldn’t matter. As long as we keep your friends in the dark, they will be safe.”



“You keep saying that. I’m sort of sick of hearing it.”



“And I’m trying to keep you from doing something dumb. Like contacting them.”



I feel like I’m going to cry again. Why me? Why did this have to happen to me?



“I feel like I should warn them or something. I feel guilty.”



Garrett says in a soft, fatherly voice, “Keatyn, move on. You’re at a great school. Try to enjoy it there. It may be your life from now on. I know we said that maybe after six months or so you could come back, but based on what we’ve seen so far, I honestly don’t think you’ll ever be coming back. I know you don’t want to hear that, but it’s the reality of the situation.”



I feel like an elephant just stepped on my chest and crushed the breath out of me. Smashed all my ribs. I grab my chest and try to breathe.



I just need to keep breathing.



Shake my ass.



3:30pm



I pull myself together and put on a happy face for the football scrimmage. I think the shock I feel when I see myself in my dance outfit helps me push it all to the back of my mind.



The outfit I’m wearing is a teeny gold glittery spandex dress. The sides are slit high up on my thighs. The halter neckline shows off my cleavage and leaves my back fully exposed. The briefs we wear under the skirt are gold glitter thongs. Okay, they are bigger than thongs but, still, they do not cover much up. As in, when I dance, I’m pretty sure you can see my ass cheeks—well, part of them anyway.



I know the dance team at my old school wore skimpy outfits and they looked adorable in them. I just never realized how small they are. And I practically lived in a bikini. But when you are in a bikini and everyone else is in pads and full uniforms, you feel kinda exposed.



No wonder all the boys are gaga over the dance team.



I’m out here practically naked!



Peyton comes and stands next to me. “So, I heard you kissed Dawson at the party last night. And my brother.”



“Dawson kissed me. I think he was pretty drunk.”



She sighs. “He was super drunk. Probably why he’s playing so badly today. I’m sure he’s very hung over.” She points out at the field, where Dawson is struggling at quarterback. “He’s a good guy. He took their breakup pretty hard.”



“She kinda glared at me at the party when she saw us talking.”



“Talking? More like he was pawing your chest.”



“I made him stop. So what’s the deal? They’re broken up, right?”



“Yeah, they are. She has a boyfriend in college. Well, we both do now.”



“And let me guess, she broke up with Dawson because you got a college boyfriend, so she had to have one too?”



“I don’t know, maybe.”



“I know how girls like her work. Dawson was a pawn. She traded him up for a rook.”



“It seemed like that, yes.”



“So you’re best friends, huh?”



Peyton kicks the ground. “Yeah.”



“How come you’re always so nice to me when she’s not around but completely ignore me when she is?”



She sighs. “She doesn’t like you.”



“Why? She doesn’t even know me. Never said one word to me.”



“She’s pissed about Dawson. She doesn’t want him, but she doesn’t want anyone else to have him. He kissed you. She’s automatically gonna see you as a threat.”



“I’m not a threat. I don’t have any desire to be like her. I was friends with girls like her at my old school. I don’t care how many friends I end up with here. I just want to know they’re not going to stab me in the back as soon as I turn around.”



“That’d be nice,” she says wistfully. “How do you know all this?”



“Stuff gets around here really fast. Like gossip, rumors. Plus, quiet, cute little Dallas hears everything.”



“You’re right. Stuff does get around. In fact, I’ve heard my brother kinda has a thing for you.”



“He doesn’t. He kinda did, maybe, like on the Ferris wheel and with the clover, but last night he decided that I’m not it.”



“What do you mean?”



“He told me that’s why he had so many girlfriends last year. When he knew they weren’t right, he’d break up with them. He doesn’t want me. Maybe we’ll be friends, though. He seems nice. And he’s, like, the most beautiful boy I’ve ever met, and that’s saying a lot since I grew up around Hollywood.”



“You like him,” she says in a singsong voice, teasing me.



“He doesn’t like me, so I can’t really like him,” I sing back.



Aiden runs down the field past me, leaps up and catches a pass thrown by Logan, the gold team quarterback. He was wide open and runs the ball a few yards for a touchdown. Then he runs right back by me and says, “Boots, how about I get a dance for every point I score?”



“Uh, sure,” I say, and then nervously shake my red and gold metallic pompoms.



“We’re supposed to be cheering for the Red team, Keatyn,” Peyton laughs.



“But they’re all our guys. Shouldn’t we cheer for both sides? And you have to cheer for your brother!”



“You know, he’s gonna score a lot of points. I told you, he likes you. And now you owe him six dances. Oh, wait.” She watches him drill an extra point through the uprights and says, “Make that seven.”



I scream. Shake my pompoms. Shake my ass. It’s a really fun scrimmage.



Because of Dawson’s major hangover, he plays poorly. At one point, he walks behind the bench and throws up on the turf. I feel sorta sorry for him. It’d suck to be in love with someone like Whitney.



Tyrese plays well. He’s a running back and has this little stutter step before he cuts in a certain direction that no one can seem to guard. Plus, he’s pretty big and hard to knock down. Katie has been cheering her heart out. She’s a bit hung over herself. She didn’t take my advice on the only have two drinks thing. Dallas plays defense, linebacker for the gold team. He has some great tackles and sacks Dawson like four times. Coach finally takes Dawson out, and Riley comes in as the red team quarterback.



And then there’s Aiden. I don’t know how it happens, but the Gold team, specifically Logan and Aiden, get on a roll. Aiden catches twelve passes and scores on three of them. He kicks five extra points and two field goals.



Meaning I owe him twenty-nine freaking dances.



After the game, I’m standing with a group of dancers when he comes strolling up, helmet off, hair sexily messed. He even looks beautiful when he’s all sweaty and gross.



He grins at me.



“So, you scored quite a few points out there. You don’t have to dance with me twenty-nine times. I know you said your dance card was already full.”



He stops walking and stands really close to me. “No, you said my dance card was full. And now it is. With you. Twenty-nine dances. That pretty much makes you my date.”



“I promised I’d dance with a couple other people.”



“Fine. Dance with them at the start of the dance. I want all twenty-nine in a row. And then I’m going to kiss you again.”



Pledge my undying love to you.



Ask you to marry me.



Have my babies.



Oh, wait. Sorry. There my imagination goes again.



He glances down at my barely-there dance uniform, raises his eyebrows in amusement, and says, “I saw you cheering for me. You were excited I scored, weren’t you? Can’t wait to dance with me all night.”



“I was standing next to your sister. I had to cheer for you,” I tease.



“See you tonight, Boots.”



Glitter whores.



6 pm



Peyton and I are standing in the coffee shop line after the game.



Whitney struts up to us. “Who picked out the uniforms this year? For God’s sake, you look like glitter whores.”



Peyton stands up a little straighter and says, “The guys really seem to like them.”



“I suppose. Guys are dogs. Are you going to introduce me to the new girl?”



“Uh, sure. Whitney, this is Keatyn Monroe.”



“Nice to meet you,” she says. “Peyton, why don’t you go on. Let us girls get to know each other.”



Oh boy. I know what this means. Queen Bees never say anything mean in front of anyone. They’re like politicians. Plausible deniability. If no one heard it, it didn’t happen.



I put on my fake smile and stand and wait. This should be good.



Peyton nods, puts her head down, and says to me, “You did good your first time out there. Have fun tonight.”



What the hell is wrong with Peyton? She’s confident until she gets around Whitney. Why does she put up with her shit?



But I guess I can’t say much. I was the same way with Vanessa.



As soon as Peyton’s out of earshot, Whitney says, “Heard you kissed Dawson.”



“I . . .”



Her voice drips with venom. “Stay away from him. He’s mine.”



I take a deep breath. I know what I’m about to do is going to piss her off. But I don’t care. She has a college boyfriend, supposedly, was making out with Jake, is making Dawson miserable, and she has the nerve to tell me to stay away from him? Uh, no. No one is ever going to tell me again who I can and cannot date.



“You were kissing Jake at the party. Why do you even care?”



“Look, I don’t know who you think you are, but I can make your life miserable here. Stay away from him.”



I’m Abby fucking Johnston’s daughter is what I want to say.