But I don’t care.
I lean in to kiss him.
He puts his hand up and stops me.
“What?”
“We’re not gonna do this.”
“Why not?”
“I want you. You know I do, but I think it would be a mistake.”
“The last time I made a mistake it was the best sex of my life.”
I push him onto the bed and throw myself on top of him. I wrap my leg around his and slowly rock my hips into him. Kiss his neck. Try to undo his shorts.
"Keatie, damn. Stop, okay? I'm trying really hard to do the right thing here." He pushes me back. "You do what you just did to me to Aiden?"
"Uh, kinda."
"Gotta give the guy credit. No way I could say no.”
“Good. Untie this,” I say, pulling at the knot holding his workout shorts on.
“Except, that I’m saying no now.”
I flop over on my back. I swear, if I someone says that word to me one more time, I’m gonna lose it.
Dawson hovers above my face. “I’ll make you a deal. Settle it with Aiden. If it’s really over then I'll do anything you want."
"How about, for now, we
just
kiss?"
“Nope. You need to go talk to Aiden.”
“No way!” I pull my shirt up. “Look, I have on a really pretty new bra.”
He pulls my shirt back down.
“I’m trying to do the right thing here. Go. I'm serious.”
I stamp my foot. “Dawson, you're supposed to be my friend. I’m throwing myself at you.”
“Trust me, our friendship is the only thing keeping me from ripping those panties off you. That, and your phone’s been buzzing.” He grabs it off his nightstand and looks at it. “He tried to call you twice. He also texted you.”
I swipe the phone out of his hand and look at it.
Hottie God: We need to talk. My room. 7:00.
I glance at the time. It’s 7:10.
“I’m not going. He’s not going to order me around.”
“Just go see what he has to say, then decide what you want to do.”
“What I want to do is go upstairs, tell him to fuck off, and then come back down here and fuck you.”
Dawson shakes his head. “I saw the way you looked at him in the hall. We’re not doing that, Keatie. Not tonight.”
He gives me a hug and pushes me out the door. “Go.”
Leaving the safety of Dawson’s room makes me feel very alone.
I walk down the hall, up a flight of stairs, and stand in front of his door.
I can't believe I’m standing here.
It’s bullshit. I’m not talking to him.
What is there to talk about?
All he’s going to say is that he’s back together with her. Give me some lame apology.
Make me cry again.
No.
I can’t do it.
I can’t listen to those words come out of his mouth.
My heart can’t take it.
Bryce’s door opens from behind me and Katie pulls me into his room.
“We need to talk,” Bryce says.
“About what?”
“About last night,” Katie says.
“What do you mean?”
“Aiden didn’t hook up with Chelsea.”
“What do you mean? She told me they did. Told me they’re back together.”
“It’s not true. Bryce was there. The whole time.”
I drop to Bryce’s bed. “I don’t understand. Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
“Because I just figured it out when I talked to Katie. After Riley punched him, I was helping Aiden. He told me he got punched because of a broken promise. I figured it had something to do with you, but he wouldn’t say. He’s either been with the dean or getting medical attention since Riley punched him. I don’t think he even knows what Chelsea did. His phone was in my room all day. And he just got back.”
“Tell me what happened.”
Bryce sits down next to me. “We were at the Cave and it started raining, so I dropped Katie off at her dorm. When I got back here, Aiden had already been drinking. I was getting ready to ask him what was wrong when Chelsea barged in looking for alcohol. She saw Aiden, said she needed to talk to him, and pulled him out to the hall.”
I shut my eyes tightly. “Never mind. I don’t want to hear this.”
“Let me finish. I opened the door and Chelsea had him pinned against the wall. She kissed his neck and he pushed her off of him. Which, considering how drunk he was . . . So, anyway, she’s not one to take no for an answer, so she dropped to her knees, unzipped his pants, and told him that she could make him feel better.”
“He let her unzip his pants?!” I cry out.
“Yeah, but let me finish. Then he grabbed her chin and said,
Don’t ever fucking touch me again
, stumbled back in here, and slammed the door shut.”
“He must have snuck out later and met her, then?”
“He didn’t. He was in my room for the rest of the night. Puking.”
“I just don’t get why she’d lie.”
“Chelsea wants every guy for herself and loves to cause trouble,” Katie replies.
But Bryce counters, “That’s not really it. Last year they dated and went to Prom together. At Prom, he found out that she’d been screwing around on him, so he broke up with her. It wasn’t until he showed interest in you that she started apologizing and telling him she wanted him back.”
“Why would anyone be so mean? To lie like that?”
But then I remember what Mandy did to Cush.
How it wasn’t his fault. How Mandy kept lying even when confronted with the truth.
I put my face in my hands.
Trying to let it sink in.
You have to trust the people that you love.
I didn’t trust Aiden.
And now he has a broken nose because of it.
I slowly get up, walk out the door in a daze, and stand in front of Aiden’s door.
My phone vibrates. "Yeah?"
"Where are you?"
"Standing outside your door trying to decide—"
His door swings open.
"Your face looks horrible!" I blurt out.
I want to kiss his swollen nose, the black circle under one eye, and the slightly yellow circle under the other.
"Come in, please. Obviously, we need to talk."
“Are you okay?”
“I’ve had better days.”
I look down at the floor and say quietly, “Me too.”
We both stand here awkwardly. I’m waiting for him to say something. When he doesn’t, I confess, “Bryce just told me that you might not know what happened. What Chelsea told me. Why Riley punched you.”
“Please tell me.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter. We’ve been working on our foundation . . .”
“This was a lot more than a text.”
“I would hope so, but I need to know what she told you.”
“She said she wanted me to know, um, that you hooked up last night and that I should go back to California . . .” I stop and close my eyes. I’m trying hard not to cry. “Because no one here likes me. And when I told her I didn’t believe her . . .”
“Wait. You didn’t believe her?”
“No. Not at first.”
“What did she say to make you believe it? What tore it all down?”
“She told me that you used to date. That you broke up after prom, and how you’ve been trying to get back together with her all semester . . . And . . . And . . .That I was just a rebound.”
“And now you know that’s not true? That she really cheated on me. That I’d never do that to you.”
I can’t do this. I can’t sit here and talk about this.
“I have to go, Aiden.”
He grabs my hands. “Please don’t go.”
“Last night, I thought you would come apologize. I kept waiting.”
“I’m not going to apologize for telling you no. And I’m not the one who acted like a spoiled little brat who didn’t get her way.”
“If that’s what you think about me—that I only wanted to unzip your pants because I wanted to get my way—then you should go back to Chelsea.”
“This isn’t about her, it’s about us.”
“There is no more us, Aiden.”
“What do you mean?”
“I can’t do this anymore. You’re not the boss of me or the boss of our relationship. And I’m not going to apologize for being attracted to you or for wanting you. I want a good relationship. One where two people can discuss how they’re feeling without it always ending in a fight. Without someone storming off.”
“You did that last night.”
“Yeah, because I couldn’t take you rejecting me one more time.”
“Do you think it’s been easy for me? I’m doing it for you. Because you need to go slow.”
I shake my head and turn toward the door. But then I pause and turn back around. “Why do you think I need to go slow?”
“Because the last two guys you’ve been with, that you loved, hurt you. I want to be the guy that doesn’t hurt you.”
“But you’re hurting me right now. You have no idea how bad this hurt me.”
“Keatyn, all your past relationships have been based on sex. And I want—”
“No! You stop there. That's bullshit! You don’t know anything!” I clutch my chest and start crying even harder. “I loved the Keats guy. He was my friend for two years. Our relationship was
never
based on sex. Don’t you
ever
say it was! And I'm sick of you judging me. Especially you. I know you had lots of relationships based on sex last year and you hooked up with girls you didn’t even care about. So, stop pretending this is about me. Stop trying to make me pay for my past and start looking at your own.”
“Says the girl who’s still sleeping with Dawson.”
“What?! What are you even talking about? I haven't done anything, not even kissed Dawson, since, since . . . like, before Halloween. I chose you.”
Aiden’s eyes get big. Then he winces from the pain of moving them.
“But . . . but, you’ve been hanging out with him.”
“Only because we’re trying to stay friends.”
He slowly drops to his bed. “Don't you think maybe you should’ve told me that?”
“I would have, but you told me we were going at our own pace. That you didn't want to compare the relationships.”
“I didn't know,” he says quietly.
“It doesn’t really matter, Aiden. We didn’t trust each other. I should’ve known that you would never do that to me, and you should’ve known that I was just sexually frustrated and that when I said I was done that I didn’t mean it.”
I don’t want to do this.
I
do not
want to do this.
But I have to.
I have to protect what’s left of my heart.
I remember when he brought me cake. How I saw our future.
How I told myself I couldn’t do it. That I couldn’t give him my heart.
How if Dawson had the potential to break my heart, crack it in two, Aiden has the power to annihilate it.
I got a glimpse of that power today.
Of his potential to destroy me.
And after everything that’s happened to me.
I know I’m not strong enough to survive it.
So I have to do what’s best for both of us.
I have to walk away.
“Goodbye, Aiden.”
I walk down the stairs and through the first floor hallway in a haze of tears.
And find myself in front of Dawson’s door.
I stand here for a minute and think about knocking.
It would be so easy to just knock on his door.
To tell him it’s over.
To get whatever I wanted.
But my wanting to do more sexually wasn’t about just getting my way.
It was about more.
It was about a lot more.
And because of that, I can’t knock on Dawson’s door.
Even though it would be so easy.
Sunday, November 20th
Washes it away.
8pm
I don’t leave my room today.
I just lie on my bed and stare at the beach on my wall.
The girls don’t understand why I’m still so upset.
But they don’t know what I felt when Chelsea told me.
They don’t know the crushing, twisting, burning, painful things her words made me feel.
They don’t know that I’m not what I seem.
They don’t know the truth about me.
About what I’ve been through.
About what I’m still going through.
How often I have to pretend like everything is okay when I’m so scared.
When it feels like everything is falling apart.
Me getting mad at Aiden for rejecting me wasn’t just about him saying no.
It was me reacting to being told no about everything.
No, you can’t talk to your friends.
No, you can’t get on social media.
No, you can’t stay here.
No, you can’t tell anyone.
No, he’ll find you.
No, you won’t get so lucky the next time.
No, you can’t see your family.
Because even your own family is afraid of you.
Tears fall endlessly down my face.
I want to build a mansion of love with Aiden more than anything.
But I’ve built enough sand castles to know.
We’d be building that foundation on sand.
And the water
always
washes it away.
Monday, November 21st
Revenge sex is sweet.
History
I slump down into my seat in history. I’m wearing my gold sparkly game day outfit even though it’s not an actual game day. Tomorrow is the playoff game and because we have to leave school early to get there, we’re having the pep rally today.
I’m starting to get sick of pep rallies.
“I take it you and Aiden didn’t make up,” Riley says.
“No. We’re done.”
“You look like shit.”
“I feel like shit.”
“He looks like shit too. I feel bad.”
“What promise did he break, Riley?”
Riley shakes his head. “It doesn’t really matter now.”
“It does matter. Please tell me.”
“He promised me that he’d never hurt you.”
My hand goes to my stomach, like Riley just punched me. Because that’s sort of what it felt like. A punch to the gut.