I kiss down his neck. Kiss my way across the chain. Kiss the key. And wish I could let myself fall for him.

He pulls me in for a tight hug. “I like you a lot too, Keatie. And, yeah, it’s enough for now.”

Thursday, September 22nd

Your panties are yellow.

English

Dallas and I are walking to English. “So how’s the sex kitten doing?”

“What?”

“You know what I’m talking about,” he laughs and flits his eyebrows up and down.

“No, let’s talk about you, Mr. I’m Talking To Eight Girls. What else are you doing with them and how many more pairs of panties have you gotten?”

He looks at me, his eyes serious. “You know I’ve never done it, right?”

“Actually, no. You didn’t tell me that.” I can’t hide my surprise. “You’re a really good kisser.”

“Well, I’ve had a lot of practice at that,” he grins. “And the Panties for the Poor drive is going quite well. You’d be surprised at how many offers I’ve had.”

“So why haven’t you?”

“I’m holding out for you.”

I roll my eyes at him.

“Fine,” he says. “Maybe I want it to mean something.”

“Really? That’s really cool. I didn’t think most guys were like that.”

“Yeah, well, I’m more than just your boy toy,” he laughs.

“Anyone seem like they have potential?”

“A couple, but I’m not talking to them.”

“Really, who?”

“You know I think Katie’s really cool, but she likes Tyrese, I guess.”

He looks bummed.

“Yeah, but I don’t think that’s gonna last.”

“What about you and Dawes? You gonna last?”

“I hope so.”

“Dang, you’re my back-up plan. I was thinking about getting you drunk, making it special.”

“You’re hilarious.”

One of those moments.

French

I’m in class a few minutes early. Kym just texted me to let me know she has some dresses for Homecoming on hold for me and sends me the list of stores where they are. I see Miss Praline out of the corner of my eye making a beeline for my desk.

Shit! She can’t take my phone from me now, can she? Class hasn’t even started!

She stands in front of my desk. I don’t try to hide my phone; instead, I put on my sweetest and most innocent face.

“Keatyn, I’m handing back the tests today.”

“Uh, okay.” That’s not what I was expecting her to say.

“Do you want to know what Aiden got?”

“I don’t know. Did he do okay? We’ve really been working hard. I thought he would at least pass.”

“Keatyn, look!” She whips out his test from behind her back. There is a huge red circle on the front. Inside the circle is a large, red C plus.

I’m immediately disappointed. “Oh, wow. I’m sorry. We’ll have to work harder.”

She gets a big grin. “Work harder?! Do you have any idea how excited he’s going to be? He failed every test last year. If it weren’t for daily grades, extra credit, and a special project I let him do, he never would’ve passed. This is amazing!”

As more people walk in, she goes, “Shhhh.”

Aiden rolls in right before the bell rings.

And even though I’m still mad at him, I turn around and say, “We get our tests back today. How do you think you did?”

He groans.

Miss Praline makes us wait until the very end of class to hand back our tests.

The bell has already rung. She hands me my test. Apparently tutoring Aiden has hurt my grades because I got an A minus.

She puts Aiden’s test down on his desk, just as I am standing up, and says, “Good job, Aiden.”

I turn around and look at him. His eyes go wide with shock. Then he jumps up, grabs me, lifts me up in the air and twirls me around. “We did it! I got a C! I passed!”

Then, for a second . . .

As he slides me back down his body and sets my feet back on the floor, it happens.

Another one of those moments.

Where we just stare into each other’s eyes.

But then Annie groans, the mood is broken, and I forget why I was mad at him in the first place.

She mutters, “Shit. I got a C too.”

I guess it’s all about your perspective.

Aiden is walking me out of class, excitedly talking about his grade. Dawson is waiting for me outside the building.

Aiden points to me and says to Dawson, “Dude, she’s awesome!”

Then he high fives me and bounces away happily.

“What was that all about?” Dawson asks.

“You know the test we studied so hard for, the other night, when you were mad at me?”

“Yeah?”

“He got a C plus.”

“That sucks. Why’s he so excited?”

“He’s failed every one of his tests until I started helping him.”

“Oh, so a C is good?”

“Yeah, but we’ve still got a lot of work to do.”

“So the tutoring wasn’t just an excuse to hang out with you? Peyton told me he’s really smart. Sorry, I just, it seemed weird.”

“Speaking of weird, your brother was telling me about something today.” I whisper something into his ear. Something Riley says is supposed to drive a woman crazy.

He runs his hand through his hair. “Jeez, Keatie, pretty soon I’m gonna be failing. That’s all I’m gonna be able to think about today.”

Then I remember I have a meeting tonight.

“Oh, wait. I have a Social Committee meeting tonight at 6:30. And it might go late. The dean is going with us. We have a lot to plan. Don’t tell anyone, but we may have something really cool planned for Homecoming. You’ll love it.”

“Tell me.”

“Okay, but you can’t tell anyone until we get it all approved.” He kisses me in agreement. “I think we’re gonna have an after-party. At a club. From midnight until six the next morning. Dancing, VIP section, great DJ. It’s gonna be really fun.”

“That does sound fun. That your idea?”

“Yeah.”

“I think it sounds amazing, but let’s go back to your other idea.”

Mesmerized by my tongue.

8:50pm

Our dinner meeting is quite productive. I knew the dean was coming with us to hear our plans, so I decided to wear a really cute dress. It’s got a chestnut leather bodice with a breezy black pleated skirt. I paired it with some funky heavily-studded midcalf boots. A Fendi ponyhair baguette bag. And a necklace I ordered online recently that is made from recycled items. It has a vintage brass number four on it, for my sisters.

He had already given us his blessing for the project, but tonight he offers to send an email not just to the current students’ parents but to all the alumni asking for donations. Which means our Homecoming after-party is going to rock.

After dinner, Aiden offers me a ride back to school. He leads me to a beautiful creamy white Maserati GrandTurismo MC that I have always admired at school but never knew who it belonged to. I know it has special order paint called Bianco Fuji as well as twenty-inch black Astro wheels. Tommy is seriously obsessed with cars, and the knowledge must have worn off on me.

Aiden opens the passenger door and I slide onto a black leather seat with custom white contrast stitching.

“Nice car,” I say.

He nods his head humbly. “Thanks. Do you want to stop for some ice cream?”

“Sure,” I say excitedly, but then he tells me wants to talk about our dreams. “I thought there had to be weed or alcohol involved for you to tell me about your dreams.”

“I didn’t say there were dreams. I said a dream.”

“Oh, sorry. Semantics.”

“Well, I don’t want you to think I sit around and dream about you all day long.”

We get ice cream cones and sit outside eating them.

I take a big lick. “This is good,” I tell him. “Thanks for stopping.”

“Oh, thank you,” he says, apparently mesmerized by my tongue.

Ha. It’s good to know I have a little power of my own. I like it when Aiden seems like a normal boy. Makes him easier for me to deal with.

“Thank me for what?” I say and then slowly move my tongue around the base of the cone.

He blinks. “Uh, um, for helping me get the C.”

“Oh, yeah, that. But I thought our goal was a B? Or don’t you want to come to France with me anymore?”

I get the god-like smile. Then watch as he licks his own lips.

“Oh, I’m definitely going to make a B. Can we go to the Eiffel Tower?”

“Well, sure. Our house is in southern France, but we can go to Paris for a couple of days, why not?”

He raises his eyebrows up and down at me. “It’s gonna be very romantic, you know.”

“Maybe I’ll bring Dawson with us.”

He gets his face in close to mine. “You won’t be bringing Dawson. You’ll be with me.”

“You know, you keep saying stuff like that. It makes no sense.”

“Why doesn’t it make sense?”

“Because I couldn’t have a relationship with you. I always know where I stand with Dawson. Our relationship is very simple.”

A flash of irritation crosses his eye.

“So, are you going to tell me about your dream?” I say, changing the subject.

“No, you’re going to tell me about yours first.”

“Okay, so when it started out I was, like, in this clearing in the woods. It kinda looked like the cave, but there were streamers and ribbons and flowers hanging from all the tree branches. It was gorgeous. Everything was cream-colored, like your car, and golden. I was going to get married there. I had on a white dress with beautiful gold embroidery—it was very Robin-Hood-marries-Maid-Marian feeling. Anyway. I’m getting married, and I don’t know who the person is that I’m marrying because I can’t see him through my veil, but, like, I know in my heart it’s the guy I’m in love with. So, we get married and even when he kisses me, it’s through the veil.” I stop. “This sounds really stupid, I can’t tell you the rest.”

“No, it’s interesting, go on.”

“Fine. Okay, so then I’m in a dorm room. I’m sitting on my husband’s lap, maybe kinda straddling him in his desk chair. He slowly took my dress off. And pretty soon I’m naked on top of him, but I still have the veil on and can’t see his face. So we start, uh, consummating the marriage. But I still have the veil on. And then in the middle of it, he lifts the veil, so I can finally see his face.”

“Wait, go back to the dorm room part. You done something like that lately?”

“Um, sorta?”

Aiden walks to his car, gets in, and starts it. I’m not sure what to do, so I throw what’s left of my cone away and get in too.

He doesn’t even look at me, just slams through the gears, driving.

He squeals into the school parking lot, gets out of his car, slams the door shut, and starts walking away. Doesn’t say a word to me.

I get out of the car. I’m not sure what to say. I mean, I thought he would love the dream. It was him I was with. He was the guy I married. I was going to tease him about how the stuff that he says is, like, affecting my brain.

“Don’t you even want to know who I married?”

“No, not really,” is his response as he marches away from me.

I text Dawson.

Me: Hey, just got back.

Dawson: Come give me a good night kiss.

I follow the marching god to his dorm. When he turns to open and go through the door, he notices me. “Are you following me?”

“Uh, no. I’m going to see Dawson for a few minutes before curfew. And we’re going to be gone this weekend. At that weekend Whitney planned, so I won’t be able to tutor you.”

“Good,” he says and marches up the stairs.

Friday, September 23rd

I wish we didn’t fight.

12:55pm

Garrett calls me as I’m leaving lunch. I tell Dawson that I have to take a quick call and send him off to his next class. I’m freaking out a bit because Garrett never calls me. He always texts me and has me call him back.

“What’s wrong?”

“Did you tell Vanessa where you are?”

“No.”

“Keatyn, it’s important that you tell me the truth. I won’t yell at you if you did. I know this has been hard on you, but if you did, it’s imperative that I know.”

“I swear to you on my sisters’ lives that I’m telling you the truth. What’s going on?”

“Vanessa may be missing.”

“Missing how?”

“She apparently posted something on Facebook about how she talked to you. That you wanted everyone to know you were getting better.”

“She just wants to act like she knows what’s going on.”

“Well, that may be, but she went to a club last night and RiAnne says no one has seen her since.” He swallows loudly. “Vincent was at the same club.”

“And you think something’s happened to her? But you told me if I kept my friends in the dark they’d be safe. Did you lie to me? Do you think he’s done something to her?”

“We don’t know. We aren’t running surveillance on him twenty-four-seven anymore.”

I’m shocked. “Why not?!”