Stalk Me

That must be it.



I’m traumatized.



I’m thinking so hard, I barely realize we’re now sitting on the Ferris wheel together. He’s sitting close to me, and he casually puts his arm around my shoulder.



I can’t help it.



My body leans into him, and I rest my head on his shoulder.



I feel like I’ve died and gone to hottie heaven.



Please, God, or hottie gods, whoever, don’t let this ride end.



Pretty soon we are stuck at the very top of the Ferris wheel, looking down at the pretty lights.



He says, “Boots.”



I raise my head up, and that’s when he kisses me.



A slow, perfect, time-stood-still, fireworks-in-my-eyes kind of kiss.



And it was just a little kiss. No open mouths, no tongues; just a kiss.



A little teeny kiss.



Holy shit.



I’m in love with him.



The kiss has stopped, but I’m stupidly still sitting here with my eyes closed.



I realize this and open them.



“That was amazing,” he tells me.



I can’t form a sentence, so I nod breathlessly.



He kisses me again.



And I don’t change my mind with the second kiss.



But, I cannot. Cannot fall in love with a guy who is gonna play me. A guy who thinks he’s in love with every girl he dates but breaks up with them quickly because he just knows she’s not the one.



After a kiss like that, he should know I’m the one.



He should be down on his knees begging me to marry him and have his little Hottie babies.



There shouldn’t be anything to think about.



But I’m sure it was a one-sided thing. Although he said it was amazing.



Shit. He stopped kissing me again, and now he’s saying something to me.



“It’s our turn to get off next.”



When did the Ferris wheel even move?



I seriously did not feel it move.



We step off the ride, and I feel the extreme urge to run away from him as fast as I possibly can. Dawson the predator, or even Tyrese the winker, seem safe compared to Aiden.



He must really be the god of all Hotties.



Seriously.



Because I’m pretty sure he just used some of his special powers on me. The make-her-lose-track-of-all-time power. The kiss-her-and-fill-her-mind-with-cotton-candy power.



“Uh, um, I gotta get back to my, um, friends,” I stutter out.



The make-her-lose-the-ability-to-form-a-complete-sentence power.



“Oh, no you don’t. My sister really is looking for you. I was supposed to find you and bring you back to the stage.”



He smiles.



It’s a blinding, white-toothed smile.



A push-me-over-the-edge-of-the-love-cliff smile.



And before I can say a word in protest, he’s got my hand and is dragging me through the carnival.



Note to self: Do not stare directly at his smile. It holds special powers.



Also: Do not kiss him. His mouth is definitely the source of his power.



Stay far away from it.



Far, far away.



But far, far away was the wrong thing to think as my mind is now dwelling on fairytales and true love’s kiss.



Pretty soon, I’m standing in front of his sister. She screams when she sees us. “Keatyn, I have been looking everywhere for you! Where has my brother been hiding you?”



“We were, uh . . . ”



Shit, where were we? I have seriously lost my freaking mind. And I may have to kiss him again to get it back.



I’m thinking.



It’s worth a shot, maybe?



“I made her go on the Ferris wheel with me first,” Aiden says, saving me.



“Bad boy.” She gives him a playful swat. “Well anyways, congrats!” Then a whole group of girls surround me. They scream, bounce up and down, and put red and yellow boas around my neck, a red-feathered crown in my hair, and then a banner across my chest, like I’ve just won Miss America. I look down at it, and it says, Dance Team in gold glittery letters. “You made it!” Then she pulls me in and whispers in my ear, “You also made varsity soccer, but you didn’t hear that from me.”



I’m really excited about that.



I’m now in a whirlwind of Congrats. All the girls are excitedly screaming and taking pictures.



Then we all get up on stage, the current dance team and us three newbies, all decked out ridiculously, and do the dance we learned today at tryouts. Peyton throws me pompoms, and I smile and dance while thinking about the craziness of today.



All I have to say is: boarding school is no day at the beach.



It’s way more exciting.



The End