“I bet that’s cute.”
“It is and she’s surprisingly good. She memorizes the lines and plays everyone. She reminds me of you.”
“I have to get to class, Mom. I love you guys.”
“We love you too. Take care of yourself.”
I hang up the phone and want to cry. I want to see them so badly.
An idea pops in my head. Mom said they were going to be home all weekend.
And I’m off this weekend.
I know what I’m going to do!
I’m going to Vancouver.
And, I’m going to ask Dawson to come with me.
I’m crazy about him and I feel so bad that I’ve lied to him about things.
And I don’t want to lie anymore.
I want to tell him the truth.
He’s been so amazing. He was patient with me. Gave me the key to his heart. Ditched Whitney’s weekend. Asked me to Homecoming in front of everyone. And then yesterday, he was so sweet to Katie.
And never once has he tried to change me. He loves me just the way I am.
So I’m going to do it.
I’ll use my fractional jet membership to get a private flight there.
On the plane, I’ll tell him the truth.
My real name. About the stalker. About my parents.
All of it.
He’ll be surprised. Shocked, probably. And maybe a little mad at first.
But it will be fine.
He will understand. We’ll kiss.
It will do nothing but strengthen our bond.
And then he’ll meet my family.
My mom will understand why I first called him Gorgeous.
He and Tommy will bond over football.
My little sisters will love him.
And best of all, since no one knows I’m coming, Vincent will have no way of knowing that I’m there.
We won’t leave the house all weekend, so I won’t have to worry about being followed back to school.
For once, my life is going to follow my script.
And I can’t wait!
A mutual attacking.
5:40pm
“Dawson, since we don’t have a football game Friday and this will be my only weekend off from play practice for a while, I think we should go away.”
He kisses up my stomach then looks at me with a pleased grin. “We going back to the love shack?”
“Are you referring to my gorgeous, expansive New York City loft as the love shack?”
“Yes, I am. And I am definitely up for another weekend of sin.” He pushes his hips into mine and laughs. “Get it? I’m up for it.”
“Yes, I get that you are perpetually horny. However, I want to go somewhere else because . . .”
Dawson kisses my chest and moves his hand up my thigh.
I let out a contented little sigh.
When he leans his hips into mine again, I decide we can discuss this later. I clutch his back, raise my hips toward his, and start pushing off his shorts.
Afterward, I'm getting dressed. I don't feel like putting my school uniform back on, so I steal a pair of his sweats.
He grabs me and pulls me back on the bed.
“Aren't you ruled by your stomach? It’s almost six.”
“I think I'm ruled by you. I'm pretty sure I could go without food, but I can’t go with out you.”
“We've done it, like, every day.”
“I know, it’s awesome. I love you.”
“You love sleeping with me.”
“That hardly qualifies as sleeping, Keatie. That was f—”
I interrupt him. “Don't say it.”
“You seem weird tonight. Is it because of what happened with Katie? You know I’m not anything like him.”
“I know you’re not. You’re adorable.” I kiss his cheek sweetly. “I was trying to talk about going away this weekend when you attacked me.”
“I attacked you? You attacked me!” He holds his hands up like he’s being arrested. “I swear, I just wanted to kiss. You were the one that pulled off my shorts!”
I laugh and give him a kiss. “Fine. It was a mutual attacking. So, I was wondering if maybe you’d like to meet my family. They’re going to be in Vancouver this weekend and I just thought . . .”
He runs his hand across my cheek. “Keatie, I’d love to meet your family.”
“Really? That makes me happy.”
“Making you happy is my favorite thing to do,” he says adorably.
I give him a deep kiss and say, “I love you, Dawson. I really do.”
“Good. Now let’s go eat.”
Girls love it.
7pm
After dinner, I head to the auditorium for my costume fittings. I have four different outfits to wear in the play, which means I’ll get called four different times.
Aiden agreed to meet me here for tutoring and I find him sitting in the back row.
I pull a little present out of my bag. It looks so cute. I took white paper and stamped black Eiffel Towers all over it and then tied it with a pink and black striped ribbon.
“What’s this?” he asks when I hand it to him.
“It’s sort of to congratulate you for applying yourself in French. I ordered it after you passed your first test and it just came in. Open it.”
He tilts his head and eyes me. “It’s not going to explode or anything, is it?”
“Very funny.”
He pulls the ribbon off the package, rips the paper off, and reads the book’s cover. “Dirty French: Everyday Slang from What's Up? To F--- Off. Very nice.” He flips through the pages and nods his head. “I can see that this will come in quite handy.”
“What do you mean by that?”
He holds open a page that lists numerous ways to ask for sex in French.
“You’re not supposed to use it to get girls to sleep with you,” I huff. “I didn’t even know all that was in there. I got it because that day in class . . .” Shit. Now I feel stupid for getting it for him. I thought he’d get a kick out of it, not use it to pick up girls.
He touches my arm and finishes my sentence. “When we were talking about cussing in French. I love it. Thank you.”Keatyn Monroe.
“Shoot, I have to go try on my first costume. Here’s my homework, if you want to work on it. I shouldn’t be too long. Are you sure you have time to wait?”
“I’m sure,” he says. “I’ll start working.”
After I finish the first fitting, I sit back down next to Aiden. His head is down and he’s writing in his French workbook. He’s taken his school blazer off and has rolled up his oxford’s long sleeves.
The four-leaf clover he showed me before the Homecoming game is still on his forearm.
I touch it and say, “Won’t come off, huh?”
“I haven’t tried to get it off. I’m hoping it will help me get lucky.”
I rip my French notebook away from him. I didn’t mean to pull it away quite so hard but the thought of him using my four-leaf clover to get lucky with a girl pisses me off for some reason.
I look at him with disgust.
“Figures you’d twist its use for something like that.”
He gives me a little smirk. “Between the lucky four-leaf clover and this dirty French book, I should be set. Girls love it when you speak to them in French. They think it’s such a sexy language.”
“French is a sexy language when you don’t butcher it.”
“Most girls don’t know any better. Why do you think I took French to begin with?”
“That’s why?” I am appalled.
He chuckles at me. “It is.”
“Give me the book back,” I say, holding out my hand.
“Nope. In fact, I learned a couple things while you were gone.
“And what’s that?”
“Rouler des pelles.”
“French kissing?”
“Yeah, isn’t that kind of funny? They don’t call it French. And the word for kiss is baiser.”
“That’s because it’s slang. Translated literally it means rolling shovels. Open your mouth.”
He looks at me funny, but complies.
I laugh. “So you do have a tongue.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t know. I’m just surprised that you chose French kissing as your first slang word when you don’t do it.”