He plops down on the bed next to me, which is exactly what I hoped for. I wrap my arms around his neck and immediately attack his neck with kisses.

“What are you doing?” he says.

“Just saying morning,” I whisper, in between sucking my way down his neck.

I reach for his pants, but he pushes my hand away. “Don’t. We don’t have time for that.”

“There’s always time for that,” I say, as I attempt to unzip them.

“Keatyn, stop screwing around. Get up and get packed.” He quickly gets off the bed.

We had sex almost every afternoon at the beach. Lately, it’s dwindled to about once a week. And it’s been over a week.

Since the last thing I want to do is start another fight, I get up as he requested. But then I strip off my clothes, grab one of my suitcases, and lay it across the bed.

Naked packing. Surely that will get to him.

I walk back and forth from the closet to my bed throwing clothes into my bag.

Brooklyn is watching me, but he looks irritated by my nakedness, not the least bit happy or turned on.

By the time I’m done packing, I’m pissed. I throw my three suitcases in front of the door and turn my back on him.

“You know, you used to be fun,” I say. Then I go in the bathroom, curl every strand of my hair, and put on all my makeup.

Fuck it.

Tuesday, August 16th

So this summer was amazing…

7pm

Brooklyn was snarly the first half of the trip home, so I just stuck my nose in a book and read. Then I crashed. When I woke up, he pulled me into his arms and started talking like nothing had happened. Like we hadn’t fought.

He never apologized for being a jerk. Well, actually, I guess he did, but then he followed it up with the slam about my luggage, which pretty much negated the apology. But then he kissed me sweetly and told me he loved me, and I pushed it all out of my mind.

He asked me to go to dinner tonight, so I threw on a pair of cute white shorts, a little tank top, and some short boots. When I opened the front door, I was shocked to see him dressed up in a pair of chestnut dress slacks and a soft khaki polo.

“You look really nice,” I tell him. And he does. His light brown hair has been trimmed, taming his curls. His face is tan and handsome, and his eyes look super blue. “Why are you all dressed up? I thought we were just grabbing some dinner.”

“We’re celebrating. You better go change.” He gives me a devious little smirk. Like he knows a secret.

“What are we celebrating?”

“Since when have you ever turned down the chance to get dressed up?”

I laugh. “Probably never.”

He grabs my hand and leads me back to my bedroom and into my closet. “You sit. I’m going to pick something out.”

I don’t sit. I stand close to him. Look into his eyes. Knock on his head. “He looks like my Brooklyn, but I don’t think it’s really him. It’s like aliens swapped his brain for someone else’s.”

He pulls me in for a kiss. Then he walks me backward toward my chair and makes me sit.

“I thought you’d like this.”

“Oh, I do. That doesn’t mean I’m not shocked.”

He looks around my closet. “You have a hell of a lot of clothes.”

“Um, maybe?”

“Point me toward the dresses.”

I point to a long rack behind him. “The casual ones are there. The formal ones are behind the tall cabinet doors.”

He starts flipping through the rack of casual dresses. “A lot of these still have the tags on them.”

“Yeah, well, I bought some summer stuff, but then I wasn’t home all summer. Pick something with a tag, please. I feel like wearing something new.”

He pulls out a really short black Chantilly lace dress. One that I’m shocked he would want me to wear. I bought it for the club. “Put this on.”

“Um, okay. It’s kinda tight. Short.”

He grins. “Yes, that’s why I like it.”

“You’re acting weird. I’m scared.”

I strip off my clothes, switch bras, and pull the dress over my curves. “Told you. It’s tight.”

He stands back, sizing me up. Then he grabs my hips and runs his hands across my ass.

“It’s been a while,” I say. I’m kinda embarrassed to say that we haven’t had sex in almost two weeks. We were too busy fighting.

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry. I was a dick. I was just stressed with some other stuff that was going on with my dad.” He waves his hand dismissively. “I’ll tell you all about it at dinner.”

I grab a pair of copper-colored high-heeled sandals and then stop in front of my jewelry drawers, where I grab a big black ring and a rose quartz bracelet to class it up a little.

We walk out my front door, and I’m shocked to see his dad’s Bentley sitting in the driveway.

I feel like I just stepped into the Twilight Zone.

He opens the door for me, I slide in, and we drive up the coast.

He takes me to a very nice restaurant on the water—one of my absolute favorites, and the kind of expensive place that he usually avoids.

Ohmigawd! Could this be it? Is he finally going to ask me to be his girlfriend!?

I’m so excited that I barely eat my blackened salmon, asparagus, and baby new potatoes.

I imagine what he’s going to say to me. Imagine him giving me a ring or a lock of his hair or something personal and dreamy.

After dessert, he starts to look nervous.

Oh my gosh! Here we go!!

“So this summer was amazing, Keats. It was such an incredible experience.”

I grab his hand across the table and squeeze it. “I know. It was for me too. I’ll never forget it.”

“So, I’ve been thinking about doing this for a while now . . . ”

OMG! I want to scream with joy!

“So, I’m finally going to do it. I’m going on the pro tour.”

Wait. What? He’s not asking me out?

“You’re going where?”

He gets a huge happy grin on his face. “A couple weeks ago, I told my dad how much I enjoyed our time at all the different surf spots. What an amazing experience it was. All the cool people we met. I’ve committed to doing the tour for a year. If, at the end of the year, I’m ranked top ten or so, then I’ll think about continuing. If not, I’ll come back home and figure out my next move. Dad says I’ll only be young once, so I should take the opportunity. That it’s a once-in-a-lifetime experience.”

“You’ll be gone for a year?” I ask incredulously. Because he’s not asking me to go out with him. He’s leaving me.

He goes on and one about the waves he surfed and how they varied, but I’m not really listening.

All I keep thinking is He’s leaving me for a year.

“You’re the reason I’m doing all this, you know?”

I shake my head and squint my eyes. I really have no clue what the hell he’s talking about it.

“You’re the one that talked me into taking the summer off and touring some of the world’s great surf spots. You’re the one who told me I should follow my dreams wherever they take me. ”

“I said that?”

When the hell did I say it?

And had I been drinking? Was I high?

He rubs his finger across the top of my hand. “Of course you said it. Because you’re amazing. And Dad took the ball and ran with it. He’s already got sponsors lined up for me. So, I’m actually going to do it. Live my dream. Can you believe it?”

“No, not really,” I say flatly.

“You don’t seem very excited.”

I try to brighten my face. I don’t think I succeed. “I’m thrilled for you, B. Really. When do you leave?”

“It’s kinda still up in the air. We’ll talk about it after your birthday. I have some fun stuff planned for your birthday.”

This excites me. “You do? Really?” He’s not really the planning type.

“Yep. Thursday, you’re mine. You said your family thing is Friday night, right?”

“Yeah, dinner will be fun. And Saturday night, we’ll have a blast. We’ll be dancing. Partying. I can’t wait!”

“Um, would you be mad if I didn’t go Saturday?”

I can barely breathe. Is he serious? “You don’t want to come to my party?”

“I’d think that after London you’d know the answer to that. Besides, we’ll have done tons of celebrating by then.”

“Uh, okay.” I don’t even know what to say to that. “You’ll come to the after-party at my house, though, right? I invited all the surfers. I thought it would be so cool for my school friends to meet your friends.” He looks at me like I’m certifiably insane. “You don’t think they’ll get along?”

“Oh they’ll get along. Like oil and water.”

“I guess I’m more optimistic than you are.”

He pays our tab, and we walk out to the car.

I start to get tears in my eyes and choke out the words I’ve been wondering. “Are you breaking up with me?”

He laughs. “I didn’t realize we were going out.”

My face drops and the tears start falling. I turn away from him.

He grabs my shoulders and turns me back around.

“I haven’t thought through all the details yet.”

“That’s worse. I wasn’t even a consideration.”

“Keats, sometimes in life you have to do what’s right for you and hope that your friends will support you. This is right for me. And don’t cry. It all came about very suddenly. And you start school soon. You’ll be so busy with all the things you want to do, you’ll barely have time to miss me. We’ll figure something out. We’ll be fine, Keats.” He hangs his head and says quietly. “I thought you’d be so excited for me. I got all dressed up and even splurged on your favorite expensive restaurant.”

I look up at him. I don’t even care that I probably look frightening with mascara dripping down my face. “I thought you were going to ask me to go out with you; instead you tell me you’re leaving me for a year. I am excited for you. I really am. I’m just not very excited for me.”

He pulls me into his arms. “I’m not going to be gone all the time. I’ll be home some. And you can come visit me.”

“Have a long distance relationship? You told Troy those never work. That he and his girlfriend would never make it through his European tour. And that’s only a four-month tour. You’ll become a celebrity like Damian. Girls will be throwing their panties at you. You’ll be half way around the world and you’ll forget all about me.”

“I’m never going to forget about you. Ever. You’ll always be my friend, and I’m pretty sure I’ll always love you.”

I lean forward and kiss him. “I’m pretty sure I’ll always love you too.”

“Good. We’ll figure out the rest soon.”

When we get back to my house, I pull him into my room and lock the door.

“Thanks for dinner. I’m sorry I didn’t act excited when you told me. I was just shocked. I do think you should do it. Your dad is right. You’re done with school. You aren’t working. You’re young. Now’s the time to do it.”

He nods his head, pulls me onto the bed, and kisses me.

Wednesday, August 17th

I mean, hell, no.

1pm

Today I’m sitting by the pool at an exclusive hotel with Vanessa and RiAnne. They called me late last night, told me they had a room and to get my ass over here. So I did.

Brooklyn had already left. He told me I looked amazing in my dress, how horny it made him, and kissed me, but we didn’t have sex. He said he was tired and he didn’t think he should spend the night. Which I really don’t understand. How can you ever be too tired for sex?

I was a little worried that things might be awkward with Vanessa and RiAnne, but they weren’t. We drank champagne, gossiped, and watched the latest Twilight movie. It was surprisingly fun, and Vanessa was surprisingly sweet. This morning we got ourselves all done up and went downstairs for brunch.

Now we’re lying by the pool.

Lying by the pool here, I look much different than when Brooklyn and I laid on the beach in Europe. For one, I look good. My hair is blown out and straightened to perfection. I’m wearing burnished gold earrings that match my gold printed Melissa Odabash triangle bikini, gold bangles on my wrists, a Free People Amalia stone drop collar necklace, my most expensive tortoiseshell aviator sunglasses, and adorable thick-strapped Ralph Lauren sandals.

I feel fantastic. Like my old self. Brooklyn would laugh if he saw me now. I wish he could appreciate my love of clothes a little more. When we’re anywhere near a beach, our relationship is perfect, but when we went on tour with Damian, it wasn’t anything close to perfect.

He laughed at my split ends for God’s sake! Shouldn’t he know that’s not a laughing matter?

Isn’t that kind of like telling a girl her butt does look big when she asks?

You just don’t do it.

I’m not sure what to think about his news last night. I am happy for him. I do want him to pursue his dreams. I just didn’t imagine they would take him away from me.

“Whatcha doing?” RiAnne says to Vanessa, breaking my thoughts.

“I’m texting both Marcus and Rodney. I can’t decide which one I want more. I mean, they’re both hot.”

“Rodney? The short lacrosse player?”