Authors: Jillian Dodd
Garrett: I think while he’s out of the country he is fine. I already suggested more undercover security for when he is back in the states. Promise me you won’t go see him.
Me: I promise. I’m sorry, but that’s just fucked up.
Garrett: My thoughts exactly.
Just like a good little mutt.
Lunch
I walk in a daze to the student center. Aiden stands in front of me. “Are you okay?” he asks me.
“Huh?” I say distractedly. “Oh, yeah. I’m fine. My friend is safe. It’s all good,” I try to say convincingly. “Hey, I heard you were the one who told Riley about what Whitney did. That was really nice.”
He gives me a dazzling smile. “Well, I promised to be nice to you. Will you meet me in my room tonight for tutoring?”
“I appreciate it, Aiden. And, uh, sure.”
I walk through the lunch line then sit down exactly where Whitney told me not to. I say hey to Peyton, hoping she can be my buffer.
Whitney leans in front of Peyton and says in a fake sad voice, “I will admit, I was a little jealous that you were catching Dawson’s attention, but now I just feel sorry for you. I’m actually glad that Jake left because now I’m free to go to homecoming with Dawson. He and I totally bonded in the limo. You should have heard us talking about all the fun we had at the last three. And we’ll be King and Queen this year, so it’s only natural.”
I see Peyton narrow her eyes. I’ve heard her talking in dance about how she hopes to be Queen this year. She sits up a little straighter and raises her chin slightly in the air. It’s a move I totally recognize. She’s about to stand up to Whitney.
“I don’t know,” she says. “He seems pretty crazy about Keatyn. And the way he calls her Keatie is so adorable.”
Whitney narrows her eyes slightly, but it doesn’t stop her. She snarls at me. “He’s just using you. Surely you’re a smart enough girl to realize that. He’s not going to fall in love with you.”
I don’t get to answer. She turns away from me and speaks directly to her friends. “He freaked out about the photos of them on Facebook. Do you really think he’s going to ask her to Homecoming and be stuck with
those
pictures for the rest of his life? Plus, his parents will be here, and they adore me. No way he’s going to introduce her to Fred and Sharon.
I sit up a little straighter. “I got to meet his parents. After he and Jake ditched you, we went to New York.”
“Oh and stayed with his mom and dad. That must have been
so
romantic,” she sneers.
“Actually, we only met them for lunch on Sunday. We stayed at my loft.”
“With your parents?” she laughs. “Even better. If he weren’t so well-mannered, he’d have run the other way. He’s asking me, so don’t get your hopes up. And why are you sitting at my table?”
“Just to be clear. We stayed at
my
loft. Alone. And you’re right. It was quite romantic. And I’m sitting here because he asked me to.”
“Just like a good little mutt would.”
I’m about to unleash my fury when the dean stands up in front of us and taps on a microphone. “I have a few announcements,” he says.
The table I’m sitting at is the first table in the center of the room. It looks out over a large empty area that is used as a sort of stage. The cheerleaders sometimes do little skits here on game days. The dance team has performed during lunch. The swing choir did their thing just last week. I glance back and notice that Riley and Dallas aren’t at their usual table either. They must have had to do the football thing too.
The dean makes a few announcements that we’re not really listening too, but then I hear him say, “Keatyn Monroe, it’s come to my attention that you’ve been seen canoodling around campus with Dawson Johnson.”
Canoodling? What does that even mean?
I turn around in my seat and face him. Wondering why the hell he would say such a thing in public. If I’m in trouble for kissing Dawson on campus, wouldn’t he call me into his office?
He continues. “I know you’re new, but we have very high standards here.”
I hear Whitney break out in laughter. “This is priceless.”
The dean continues. “You’re about to see just how high.”
Then the room fills with the sound of stripper music. The dean drops the microphone and starts dancing to the music.
He doesn’t dance well.
I wonder what the hell is going on. Is this some kind of new girl hazing?
Is someone going to jump out and tell me I’ve been punked?
I glance at Peyton. She shakes her head at me. She has no idea either.
The dean sticks his index finger in his mouth then touches it to his ass. Like it’s sizzling hot.
My jaw drops to the ground and I half scream and cover my mouth with my hand, laughing. The side door opens and a bunch of boys dance in. Jake, Riley, Bryce, Dallas, Tyrese, Ace, and some other football players.
They line up next to the dean and do a naughty striptease dance, pulling their school blazers off and tossing them to the ground.
The students behind me start clapping and screaming.
I shimmy my shoulders to the music.
“For God’s sake,” Whitney whispers loudly over the music, “stop shaking. You look ridiculous. If you’re going to sit at this table at least try to have a little decorum.”
I flip her the bird over my shoulder. Then I stand up, pump my fist in the air, and go, “Woooh!”
All the guys except for Jake strip off their oxfords, the dean included, and swing them above their heads like lassos.
Jake comes dancing up to our table and crooks his finger at me. I skip up to him as he pulls me into his hips and grinds against me.
“Unbutton my shirt,” he says.
I grin at him and quickly unbutton all of his buttons. I even drop it low in front of him and shake my ass a little. He pulls me up, puts my arms up in the air, and slides his hand down the sides of me. I run my finger down the front of his shirt totally getting into it.
He pushes me back a little and says, “Get ready.”
The music switches and the lyrics scream,
Aaaaare yooooou readyyyyy?
The crowd behind me yells back, “YES!”
Then a fast techno beat blares through the speakers.
The dean jumps out from the line and rips his t-shirt straight down the middle. On his white pasty chest is a red painted
H
.
Jake follows suit. Ripping his shirt down the middle. On his chest is a red
O
.
Ho? Do they think I’m a ho because I’ve been canoodling or whatever with Dawson?
What is this, the freaking Scarlet Letter?
Is he trying to make an example out of me?
Riley jumps up in line and goes next. On his chest is the letter
M
. And on down the line, boys rip their shirts off, reveal their chests and a red letter.
E. C. O. M. I. N. G.
I read them across.
HOMECOMING
?
Is this some sort of skit to get people excited for homecoming? Like, to sell tickets or something? But then, Dawson slides in at the end of the line.
He has a bouquet of the palest pink tea roses in his hand, just like the ones I admired at his house.
I hear Peyton next to me go, “Ahhh, that is so adorable.”
Dawson walks over, hands me the bouquet, then he very slowly and oh, so very sexily, rips his shirt off too. On his chest there is a
?
He tilts his head at me and gives me a smoldering grin. “What do you say, Keatie? Will you go to homecoming with me?”
All of a sudden I feel sort of choked up.
But then I scream out, “Yes,” jump into his arms, and give him the kind of kiss that is
definitely
against the school’s decency policy.
I hug all the homecoming letter boys and even the dean, who now seems surprisingly cool.
Dawson takes my hand and we sit down at the table.
Peyton is gushing about how crazy it was to ask that way.
Whitney says, “How’d you come up with something so tacky, Dawson? You always asked me in a classy, dignified way.”
He rolls his eyes at her. “You mean a boring way? Keatie is a lot different than you, Whitney. I love that she doesn’t give a shit what people think, so I knew she’d get a kick out of it.”
Ace says to me, “I loved how you started dancing with Jake.”
Dawson looks straight at Whitney. “Some girls know how to have fun.”
The tension suddenly feels thick. I figure I better change the subject.
“And the dean! Ohmigawd! I really thought I was in trouble at first. Then I thought it might be like some new girl hazing. But I didn’t think the dean would be involved in something bad. So I just went with it. And when he took his shirt off. I about died! Did you see how white his chest is?”
Everyone at the table starts laughing.
“Told you she’d love it,” Jake says, elbowing Dawson.
“I did love it.”
Everyone starts focusing on their lunch.
I run my hand up Dawson’s thigh under the table.
Whitney scowls at us. “Ohmigawd, we’re trying to eat here.”
Dawson kisses my check then whispers in my ear, “You better stop rubbing my leg, or I’m not gonna be able to stand up. I’m hard as a rock.”
“Mhmm. Too bad we have class,” I say, messing with his hair. His face is close to mine. Our cheeks touch as we whisper in each other’s ears.
“I keep thinking how sexy you looked naked all weekend. I'm having a hard time focusing in class.”
“Then maybe you should start focusing on what's gonna happen tonight.”
“What’s gonna happen tonight?”
“You know.”
“I wanna hear you tell me,” he growls.
“You’re naughty.”
“I’m horny.”
“As many times as we did it this weekend, you shouldn't be horny for weeks.” I run my hand across the back of his neck and down his back.
“Tell me, please.”
“I’d rather surprise you.”
“I love your kind of surprises.”
The end . . . well, for now.
Book three:
Date Me.
Coming soon!
Author’s Note:
Reader reviews are so important in helping to get the word out about our books.
If you loved this book, please leave a review wherever you purchased it.
And to entice you further:
When I get to
50 Reviews
, I’ll post the outfits Keatyn wears in this book on my
website
.
When I get to
150 Reviews
, I’ll post a Sneak Peek for
Date Me
.
And no matter which team you are on:
Team Aiden, Team Dawson, Team Dallas, Team Damian . . .
If you are on boy overload after reading this book, there is help.
Join the
Keatyn Chronicles Boy Discussion Group
on Facebook.
Acknowledgements
It’s really hard to believe that I didn’t include acknowledgements in my very first book. Since then, the list of people who have been on this journey with me grows longer.
First to my readers: I wouldn’t still be on this journey if it weren’t for you. You message me, write amazing reviews, tweet me, and tell your friends about my books. I can’t thank you enough for that.
For the book bloggers who have been with me from the beginning. Judith Tanini and Ellen Spivey at I Love YA Fiction, Mollie Harper at Tough Critic Book Reviews, Heidi Bennett and Julie Bockover at The Readiacs, Jennifer Howell at Late Bloomer Online, Morgan Maulden at Eating, Reading, & Dreaming, Melissa Mosloski for being awesome, Leslie Fear and everyone at The Indie Book Shelf.
To my amazing beta readers: Jessica Miremadi, you deserve your own paragraph for being the bluntest, meanest, pickiest, and sweetest beta reader of all. You catch the tiniest details. I once told you I read a book that I really enjoyed overall, but there was one single sentence in it that made me hate the main character. You’ve made sure that I don’t have any sentences like that and more. Thank you so much. And for my other beta readers, thank you for being honest with me and helping me create a book worthy to share. Partners in crime: Melissa Stewart-Allum and Mireya Sauer. It’s hard to believe you are half a world apart!! Heidi Bennett, Jacqueline Hansen, Beth Suit, Jamie Lynn McBryan, Alexandra Louk, and my daughter, Kenzie. And I can’t forget my mom. Thanks for reading countless versions of all my books. I love you.
To all the people who were at the Chicago book signing this fall: I have to admit, I was a bit worried about this event. There were so many authors there that I admire and who sell so many books. Thanks to all the fans that came there and made me feel like I belonged. To Kelley Edler for encouraging me to go, for coming along, and for risking a kidney in the process. To Jessica Miremadi for being my right hand. To Beth Suit and her amazing husband, John, so glad you came! To mother f*@#!ing Jen Sterling for crazy late nights and a possible “three sum.” To Rebecca Donovan and Dina Silver, you are two of the sweetest people I have ever met. Melissa Brown, Sarah Hansen, and Colleen Hoover for doing so much to make it happen. And everyone else: Can’t. Wait. Until. The. Next. One!