Date Me Page 10



"Cam is an awesome brother, but he can be a dick. All I ever wanted was to be like him." He sighs. "Part of why I got kicked out of school."


"You need to tell me what happened."


"I was told to never speak of it again," he says seriously.


"By who?"


"The dean."


"Oh. So you can't tell me?"


"Maybe some other time." He laughs. "It's a pretty epic story, really. I can't believe I'm sitting here saying all this. What the hell did you do to me?"


"What I did to you?"


"Yeah, I'm turning into Dawson. Pussy whipped but getting no pussy."


I smile at him. "You like Ariela. She's going to be so excited tonight. I can't wait."


"It was cool of you to ask her to go shopping with you. I'd like it if you were friends."


"I know. That's why I asked. So you really think your brother is going to cheat on me? He's, um, not really in the same situation as you."


Riley punches my shoulder. "He's whipped, all right."


I nod my head. "I meant the other part."


“Unfortunately, he’s been rubbing that part in. Not details. Just how hot you make him, that kind of thing. Although he’s not very excited about you may be doing the play. I heard you got called back to read with Jake and Logan."


“I did. Jake and I have good chemistry on stage and Logan seems to kind of hate me, which, really, is perfect for the part. He’s going to pretend to like me just to screw things up for his brother. Getting a callback is exciting, but I still don’t know if I’ll get the part.”


Winning runs in the family.


History


During history, our classroom is paged and I’m called to the office.


Everyone in class goes, Ooooohhhh. Like I did something I’m about to get in trouble for.


As I put my notebook into my bag, my mind starts to go crazy thinking about what I’ve possibly done wrong.


I’ve never gotten in trouble at school.


Except Aiden causing me to be late those two times.


Do they know Dawson sneaks into my room? Do they know we party at Hawthorne House after curfew? Do they know I smoke at the Cave?


I get to the office and say to the secretary, “I’m Keatyn Monroe. You called me out of class?”


Peyton steps out from behind a cubicle. “Oh, that was me. I need your help on some of this after-party stuff. I didn’t think you would mind getting out of class.”


I smile at the secretary, trying to assure her that I wasn’t the least bit nervous.


Peyton loops her arm through mine and says loudly, “We’re going to my dorm so that we can make some phone calls in peace.”


As we walk by the big trophy cases out front, she stops and points at some photos. “These are all the past Homecoming Kings and Queens. Isn’t that cool? I love looking at the dresses and hairstyles and how they’ve changed over the years.”


I study the photos, going back to the early 40s. “They are very cool. I like this dress especially.” I point to the winner from four years ago. She’s wearing a gorgeous but simply cut pale pink gown. “Clarke?” I look at her closer. “Is she related to Whitney?”


Peyton nods. “That’s her older sister, Winnie Clarke. Isn’t she gorgeous? She was captain of the dance team too.” She points at two other photos a couple years further back. “And these are her brothers.”


“So winning runs in the family?”


“Yeah. Part of why she acts like she’s entitled to win.”


“I love her sister’s gown. Is Whitney’s that pretty?”


Peyton laughs. “I guess that all depends on what you consider pretty. Come on. We better get going.”


As soon as we walk out of the building, she says, “I lied. The event coordinator is handling most of the after-party stuff. I thought maybe we could go to my room and look at dresses online. The dress is a big part of the tradition. Did you notice how all the dresses were very subtle? Very classy?”


“Yeah, and I read the flyer with all the rules regarding the dress.”


“Everyone who was nominated is either a cheerleader or a dancer. We’ll change into our dresses right before halftime, but Whitney will wear hers for the entire game. Want to see a picture of Whitney’s dress?”


“Sure,” I say. I’m sure it’s going to be gorgeous.


We get to her room and she pulls up a photo of Whitney’s dress on her laptop. “So this is hers. What do you think of it?”


I look at the dress. It’s a strapless nude-colored gown with a high slit up one leg. The entire bodice down to just above the knee is encrusted with very large multi-colored pastel jewels. Past the knee, the jewels are sprinkled sparsely down the nude colored mesh.


“Wow. It’s, um, pretty bold. It looks more like a pageant dress to me. But it’s hard to tell until you see it on.”


“It’s way over the top. Especially when you consider the way they want us to look. Wait ’til you see mine.”


She clicks the mouse and up pops a photo of Peyton in a fully beaded gown. I can’t help it. I start laughing. “You look like you should be turning letters on a game show, not wearing a Homecoming crown!”


She giggles with me. “That’s why I’m so excited to go shopping with you. I want a dress that’s me. This is not me. And it weighs about ten pounds.”


“I think that’s why Whitney’s choice is such a shock. She dresses so conservatively. I’m surprised she would buy something like that.”


“She said she wants to stand out.”


“You stand out when a dress enhances your beauty. You have to wear the dress. The dress can’t wear you. That’s why so many people choose their Academy Awards dresses wrong. They look at the dress’s beauty, not their beauty in the dress.”


Peyton gives me a mega-watt smile. One that is identical to her brother’s.


“Exactly. That’s exactly what I want.”


She clicks around and shows me some dresses she’s found online. Shows me a list of stores she’d like to go to.


I show her the dress that I ordered last night online.


“Oh, Keatyn, that dress is so you. It’s traditional, but the red is just a little more watermelon and the cutouts on the bodice are a really unique detail. It’s really pretty.”


“Thanks. It’s a brand I’ve worn before, so I have a pretty good idea of how it will fit. I think it’s the one, but I’m going to look this weekend to see if I find anything better. And I need some cute outfits for our dress up days.”


Peyton continues to click around on her computer. I decide to be brave and just ask what I’ve been wondering since the day Whitney called us glitter whores. “So what does Whitney have on you anyway?"


“What do you mean?”


“I just get the feeling that she’s holding something over your head.”


She shakes her head. “I can't tell you. It's horrible. I'm so ashamed of myself."


"At my old school, my best friend was a girl like Whitney. She threatened to tell everyone that my relationship with my perfect boyfriend was a sham because we hadn't had sex yet."


"You didn't want people to know you were a virgin? Why not?"


"Because we dated for a year and a half. Everyone thought we were doing it. She even thought we were until I slipped and told her one day. You shouldn't care, Peyton. If you don't care, then she can't hurt you. She loses her power over you.”


"What she has on me is way worse."


"Tell me. Get it off your chest. I promise you'll feel better."


She squints her eyes at me and sizes me up. "You swear to god that you will never tell anyone?”


I raise an eyebrow at her. "I'll do better than that. I'll pinkie swear." I hold my pinkie up and let her grab it.


"Okay," she says. "So, not long after Cam and I broke up . . .” Her chest heaves.


I can tell she's all torn up about this. Maybe it is worse.


No, I . . . I’m sorry. I can't tell you."


"Tell me. I promise I won't be shocked."


She blurts out, "I slept with a teacher."


My eyes get huge. I can't hide my shock. "I'm sorry. I am shocked. Who?"


She sighs big. “Coach Kline.”


“The hot Assistant Boys' Soccer coach?”


She nods.


“How did that happen?”


“After Cam slept with Whitney and never called, we started dating. We dated for well over a year. Even survived a summer apart. We broke up in October of my sophomore year. I was devastated and it didn’t help that there were stressful things going on at home. So I was crying on the soccer field one day after practice. Coach Kline was nice. He listened. That's how it started."


"Started? So it wasn't a one-time thing?"


"No. It lasted a few months. We didn't sleep together right away. We were sort of friends first. He was single back then and fresh out of college. He’s an alum. Was a soccer stand out when he was here as a student. Played soccer in college. He did his student teaching here and when they offered him a coaching position, he jumped at it. Since then, he’s gotten his Masters and gotten married. He was only twenty-two at the time. And it just went further. I never regretted it.”


"How did Whitney find out?"


"We were roommates. She thought I was lying to her about something, so she followed me one night. Even took pictures of us, um, together."


"Oh my gosh."


"She threatened to tell the school. Said I was going to get expelled. She hated me because of Cam. I know, in retrospect, he probably would’ve gotten fired and I wouldn't have been in trouble. Clearly, I was underage when it happened. But I didn't want to upset my parents. And now, if she showed the pictures, it would ruin his marriage, get him fired, and definitely get me expelled."


"Were you more popular than her? Back then?"


She shrugs and wipes a tear from her eye. "Maybe. I didn't really think of it that way. I made dance team and she didn't. But I didn't think she really cared. She didn't seem to want to get involved in any activities. I signed up for everything. Figured if I stayed busy, I wouldn't have to think about stuff."


“The other day in the locker room, when you threw away the shoes . . .”


“Wasn’t that great? It felt so freeing. And she always makes snide comments about our dance outfits. I think it’s because she’s jealous.”


“If she tried out and didn’t make it, I’m sure she is. Did she try out the next year?”


“No. Ever since, she acts like she’s too good for it.” Peyton snickers. “Really, it’s that she’s just not a very good dancer.”


Better than naked chests?


French


Although Peyton wants to skip the rest of the day, I tell her that I need to get to French.


“My brother has really started enjoying French,” she teases.


“He doesn’t enjoy it. He just likes it better because he’s not so close to failing anymore. Takes some of the pressure off.”


She looks at the clock. “You better scoot, then. I think I’m going to stay here. Maybe take a nap.”


“Sounds good. I’ll see you before the game.”


I slide into my desk just before the tardy bell rings.


From behind me Aiden says, “Congrats on the play. I told you you’d get the part.”


I flip around. “What do you mean?”


“Didn’t you hear the cast announcement at lunch?”


“No! I skipped lunch. I was helping your sister with some Social Committee stuff. Well, sorta.”


“You’re playing the part of the Cheerleader Bachelorette.”


I let out a loud shrill. “Ahhhh!”


Miss Praline goes, “Keatyn?”


I flip back around. “I can’t help it. I’m so excited!”


Aiden explains, “She just found out she got the role she wanted in the school play.”


“Well, that’s nice, Miss Monroe. Congratulations.”


“I’m excited for you, Keatyn,” Annie says. “But I’m even more excited for tomorrow.”


I grab her arm. “Oh, I didn’t tell you about tonight, did I? Riley is going to ask Ariela right before the game. We’re writing Homecoming? on a football and he’s going to pass it to her during warm ups.”


“Oh, that’s so cute!”


“And she’ll be able to keep the football. I kind of wish I had something to keep.”


“Me too,” Annie says. “Although I do have a screen shot of him asking me. And Maggie took pictures.”


I think about Aiden’s Homecoming stars.


I spin around to ask him. “What ever happened with your stars, Aiden? I keep thinking I’ll see someone post them on Facebook.”


“What stars?” Annie asks.


Aiden ignores Annie and says in a stern voice, “I don’t want to talk about it.”


I turn back around.


Why doesn’t he want to talk about it?


Oh my gosh. Is he embarrassed because she said no?


And who in their right mind would have said no?


I think about what Shark said in detention that day. What was it? Something about Aiden and the dream girl. Or waiting for the dream girl.


Who is this dream girl and what the hell is her problem?


Is she blind?


I sneak a peek at Aiden.

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