Ohmigawd. Maybe videos do affect the youth of today. Because I'm pretty sure Braxton was trying to recreate our revenge video.
"And he had them drinking our Dom Pérignon! Do you know how expensive that stuff is?"
Same champagne. Shit. Pray his mother never sees my video. "Yeah, I've heard."
Really nice boobs.
4pm
I'm on the train ride to school. Dawson is sleeping with his head on my shoulder.
“What did you decide to do about Aiden?” Dallas asks me.
“On the train here, I read a
Cosmo
article. It said if you can’t decide between two boys that means you’re not ready to decide. I thought I wasn’t ready to decide. But now I think I am.”
“Really?”
“Yep. I’m going with the hot sex. You’re right. We’re in high school. We should be having fun. There’s no reason to be tied down and no reason to let your heart get involved. None of us know the future. Since you heard everything else, did you hear the part about how his dad says love grows?"
"Yeah."
"You think that's true?"
"Could be."
“Are you in love with Chelsea?”
"I don't know. I've never felt that instant thing you talk about, but I like her. She's fun and I'm looking forward to getting back to school and seeing her boobs. She has really nice boobs."
I head over to Aiden's room to work on our French homework for a little while before I have to go to rehearsal.
He hasn’t texted me all weekend, so I’m not even sure if he’s still meeting me.
I stand outside his door, my hand up, ready to knock.
As I put my hand on his door, it opens.
And it looks like someone just opened the gates of heaven.
Aiden gently pulls me into his room and gives me a blazing smile.
Then he kisses me.
A slow, perfect, knock-me-off-my-feet, slide-down-a-rainbow and then soar-through-the-sky kiss.
Seriously. It’s like he has some power to unlock whatever sappy love shit is buried in my brain.
"So, I did all my French homework myself. Made Annie study with me this weekend."
"Oh, so you don't need me anymore?"
I'm a little crushed by this.
No. I'm the-bug-you-crunched-under-your-shoe crushed. I feel like my carcass should be lying dead on his floor with a white line drawn around me.
He lazily blinks those emerald eyes at me. "No, silly. I just wanted to be able to talk during rehearsal and not have to study.”
"Oh. Can we dance then?” He looks sort of surprised, so I say, “We have time.”
He shuts his blinds, turns on the twinkle lights, and messes with his iPhone, choosing the sure thing song.
He takes two big steps across his room, pulls me into his arms, and sways with me. I put my cheek against his. Feel the fire. Think about the quote Grandma told me about love either warming your heart or burning your house down. Aiden feels like he has the power to do both. Especially now that he is whispering some of the lyrics to me about how he has faith in us.
And I long for that. That kind of love.
If Dawson and I broke up for good, it wouldn't burn my house down.
But am I willing to play with fire? And what will I do if I get burned?
I’m pretty sure I can already feel the flames of Hell tickling my toes.
Ha! I'm dancing in the flames.
Aiden kisses me. Gentle but hot kisses. Then he walks me back toward his bed and lies on top of me, running his tongue up my neck.
He moves against me. Thrilling me. But only kissing me.
I return his kisses with every bit of passion I possess. Somehow achieving this without using my tongue. Which is a new one on me.
I have one hand behind his neck and my other hand is across his butt, pulling him toward me.
He says, "Hell."
And I wonder if he’s in Hell too.
He pops up off the bed and pulls me up.
"Come on,” he says, as he drags me—practically kicking and screaming—out the door.
On the way to rehearsal, he says, “I’m sorry I kinda got mad the other night. I’d love for you to be my date for the banquet.”
“Okay,” I say happily.
Monday, October 31st
You really are a good prince.
6:30pm
“Well, this is the big scene. You ready?” Jake asks as we’re waiting to go on stage.
For this scene, I’ll be dressed in a ball gown. It’s the big night. The final night in the competition, where each prince has to announce who he loves.
The contestants take turns dancing with both princes.
Part of the contest involves the townspeople’s votes. Who they think each prince will ask.
The Bad Prince happily surprises everyone when he offers to go first.
The townspeople cheer.
They love him. Love how he’s manipulated the girls. Love his cocky, bad boy attitude. Love his tattooed back.
An overwhelming majority of them believe that he will offer his red rose to the Debutante.
The Good Prince, who has alienated most of the country and the contestants, doesn’t share the townspeople’s favor. They voted that no one will agree to marry him.
The Bad Prince walks across the stage. He looks handsome. Rich. Cultured. He waves away the microphone that the announcer tries to hand him and instead speaks directly to the contestants.
“This has been a tough choice. All of you will always have a special place in my heart. But one stands out like the brightest star in the sky.”
The Debutante smiles. She’s shaking with excitement. The townspeople are cheering.
The Good Prince just stares at me.
While the Bad Prince walks around high-fiving and fist-bumping the townspeople, we have a moment. The spotlight shines on each of us as we wonder how things between us went so wrong.
Then the Bad Prince grabs a rose off the podium. He pulls a petal off the rose and hands it to the slutty contestant. She looks very confusedly at him and the crowd murmurs, wondering what he’s doing. He keeps going, though. Pulling a petal off and then handing it to another contestant. I’m next in line to get a petal, but he skips me. Shuns me, it seems.
The Good Prince gives me a beaming smile.
After the Bad Prince has handed each girl a petal, he walks back to me, grabs my hand, and pulls me toward him.
“I don’t have a rose for you, my darling. I have something much better.” He drops to one knee and pulls an enormous diamond ring out of his pocket.
This prop is hilarious and will make the audience laugh.
“Marry me,” he says.
My eyes meet the Good Prince’s. He’s obviously devastated, assuming that if the Bad Prince asked me then I must be in love with him. He rushes off the stage, not waiting for my reply.
Tears fill my eyes as I watch the love of my life run away.
The Queen closely watches what transpires.
When I don’t reply to the Bad Prince right away, the townspeople yell,
Kiss her! Kiss her!
The Bad Prince grabs me and gives me a fiery kiss.
It’s the kind of kiss that should make you want to jump into bed with him.
But I pull away from it.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t,” I cry.
I run off stage and then chaotic hilarity ensues. All the finalists give it one last shot to win the Bad Prince’s ring.
They attack him with kisses. They fight. Pull each other’s hair.
Finally, he says, “Enough.” And puts the ring on the Debutante’s finger.
The crowd goes crazy.
The lights dim, the background changes, and I’m running down the beach.
I go to the place where we first kissed.
I stop when I see him sitting there, staring out at the water.
I go stand in front of him.
He stands up and says madly, “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be off on your honeymoon with my brother?”
“I can’t marry a man I don’t love.”
He visibly softens. Jake is very good at this part. He slumps his shoulders slightly, softens his eyes, and reaches to take my hands in his.
“When we kissed that first time, I didn’t know you were a prince. You were just the man I had fallen head over heels in love with. I don’t love your brother and I don’t care about being a princess, I just want you.”
Jake and I share a meaningful gaze then we lean together and kiss as the big moon slides down behind us.
After the kiss, he drops to one knee, pulls a beautiful ring out of his pocket, and says, “Will you marry me?”
I jump into his arms and say yes.
“That was spectacular!” our director says. “Outstanding, people. We’ll stop there for tonight. Go enjoy what’s left of your Halloween.”
Jake glances at his watch. “There’s not much time before curfew, but I have treats in my room if you want to come trick or treat.”
“What kind of treats?”
“They’re special brownies.”
“Seriously? Um, we’ll be there.”
“Tell the girls that the sluttiest costume wins!”
Naughty nurse fantasy.
9:45pm
I run into the dorm looking for the girls. There are white cotton spider webs stretched from corner to corner of the gathering room. The dorms all go a little crazy competing for best decorated. The girls were putting their costumes on and going dorm to dorm trick-or-treating.
“There she is! Finally,” Maggie yells at me from across the room. She’s a little tipsy and dressed as a naughty policewoman. “Go put on your costume and take some pics with us!”
“Okay, I’ll hurry!”
I run in my room and throw on the naughty nurse costume I bought but didn’t get to wear today. They decided last minute that we couldn’t dress up for classes. Probably because our costumes look like this.
I run back out and Maggie hands me a flask. “You need to catch up,” she laughs. “Even Annie is tipsy.”
I throw back a shot, then have fun posing with the girls.
“We need to go trick-or-treating at Jake’s room. He has special brownies.”
“Seriously? Let’s go!” Maggie says.
“I need to upload this pic first,” Annie says. “Then we’ll go.”
While she’s uploading the picture, I tell them, “So, I was bored on the train this weekend and I read this thing about a girl trying to choose between two guys.”
Annie stops what she’s doing and laughs. “You totally googled
How to choose between two guys
, didn’t you?”
I frown, busted. “Maybe.”
“What did it say?” Maggie asks. And I can tell she’s very interested.
“The girl asked if she should choose the guy that is in love with her, or the guy she’s in love with.”
“Oh, wow,” Maggie says, sitting down slowly. “I get that.”
“I don’t get it,” Annie says scornfully. “Not that it matters. I know the answer.”
Maggie and I both look at her in awe. “What is it?” Maggie asks.
“You want both, duh.”
“Both guys?” Maggie and I ask at the same time.
We look at each other and laugh.
“No! Not both guys. You want
one
guy. One guy that loves you
and
that you’re in love with.”
“If only it could be that easy,” Maggie says with a sigh as I get a text from Braxton.
Braxton: Tricks or treats. Which one did you get tonight?
Me: I’m going to get some treats right now :) How bout you?
Braxton: I have this girl talked into sneaking over. Tonight’s the night. She’s 17.
Me: How old does she think you are?
Braxton: 17
Me: Does she know you’ve never done it?
Braxton: Shit, will she be able to tell?
Me: Yeah, I think so. Maybe you should just kiss her. Stop trying to make it happen and wait for someone you care about.
Braxton: I don’t really care about that. I just want experience.
Me: What happened with you and Embry? I thought you were supposed to go to a movie together.
Braxton: Do you not recall me puking on her? She hates me.
Me: But she puked on you back. You’re even.
Braxton: This girl coming over is not as pretty as she is but I don’t care. She’s into me.
Me: Has she done it before?
Braxton: Uh, yeah. For sure.
Me: Then tell her you haven’t. Maybe she can help.
Braxton: How can she help?
Me: Ask your brothers.
Braxton: Riley won’t tell me and neither will Dawson.
Me: Why not?
Braxton: Fuck if I know. Oh sorry, I’m not sure. Why can’t you tell me? You embarrassed?
Me: No. I just think maybe it’s better if a guy tells you. I’m not a guy. Ask Dawson again.
Me: So did he tell you?
Braxton: He says he’ll tell me later. I need to know NOW!!! It’s going down TONIGHT!!
Me: I’ll go talk to him.
“We have to go to Jake’s now if we’re going to make it back by curfew.”
I round up the girls and we run over to Jake’s room.
“Trick or treat,” I say when he opens his door.
“Very nice, Monroe. Very nice.” Then his eyes wander down Maggie’s body. “I so want to be arrested.”