After getting Annie ready, I work on myself. I’m supposed to look like a movie star and my dress is perfect for that. It’s tiered black silk organza, similar to one worn in a Miss Dior ad.

I do my hair in big curls, then brush it out into soft waves. The dress has a bit of a twenties vibe, so my hair will match perfectly.

I’m just putting on a pair of black suede Charlotte Olympia cut-out sandals when Aiden knocks on my door.

When I open the door, he hands me a beautiful bouquet of flowers in the palest of pastels. Light fuchsia roses. Pale pink and blue hydrangeas. White lilies of the valley. Dusty pink peonies.

“They’re beautiful, Aiden. Are they for me?”

“Who else do you think I’d buy flowers for?”

“They’re just so pretty. I thought maybe they’re, like, a centerpiece or something.”

“They’re for you, silly.” He sets the flowers on my desk then holds out his arms. “So, obviously, you look crazy beautiful. But how about me? Do I look good enough to play your arm candy?”

I let my eyes slide down his buff body, which is looking totally delectable in a black suit. His hair is perfectly mussed. His angular face is freshly shaven. And his shoes . . .

“You might have more shoes than I do.” I laugh. “You look more than good enough to be my arm candy. In fact, I don’t think anyone will even be looking at me.”

I hold my pink Alexander McQueen appliquéd clutch and look at myself in the mirror again.

Something’s missing.

I spy the flowers behind me. “That’s what I need!”

I grab one of the pink roses, pin it to the plain black satin ribbon that came with the dress, and tie it around my neck.

“You look beautiful,” Aiden says, holding my hands and leaning in for a sweet kiss. He looks at his watch. “We better get to the café.”

I glance at his watch too.

“I'm playing the starlet. I’m pretty sure that means I should be a little late and make a big entrance.”

“Well, if you’re sure,” he says, and leans in for another kiss.

Twenty minutes later, Aiden is escorting me onto the French riverboat set.

Everyone is seated and opening their picnic baskets.

We make a purposefully noisy entrance and, right on cue, I'm stopped by two different dinner guests who ask for my autograph, which I sign on their dinner napkins with a purple glitter pen.

I stop along the way and give air kisses to a few of the other characters, and it's obvious that the students are wondering what the heck is going on.

Once we’re seated, Logan walks out, dressed in a suit and a chef’s hat. “I am the great Wolfgang Pluck. It was my honor to prepare your gourmet meals for this evening.” He takes a prop glass of champagne off our table and raises it in the air. “I’d like to make a toast to a few very important guests.” One by one, he introduces the characters in the cast. “Relax and enjoy the beautiful views out the boat’s windows, Bon appétit.”

Aiden starts unpacking the picnic basket that is sitting on the floor next to us.

“What’d you get?”

“It’s a surprise,” he says. “But, since you’ll be performing while everyone is having dessert, I thought we’d start with that.”

He sets a container of chocolate mousse between us and pulls out two spoons.

“Oh, good call,” I say. “It’s my favorite.”

I let the chocolate melt in my mouth.

He uncorks a bottle of fake wine and pours me a glass.

He clinks my glass and I take a sip.

“Aiden, this is not the fake wine. It’s a Merlot, I think.”

“Very good. And, shhh, don’t tell.” He kisses my cheek.

I use my palm to turn his face toward mine.

“I love chocolate, but kissing you is even better,” I whisper. “What else is in the basket?”

“Brie, apple slices, some warm sourdough bread, chipotle almonds, and some ham.”

“You planned so much for tonight. The Eiffel Tower, the flowers, the wine. It’s sweet.”

He shrugs his broad shoulders. “Maybe I’m a little sweet on you.” Then he leans in close to me, clinks my glass again, and whispers, “In case you haven’t figured it out, I’m still trying to woo you.”

Happy Birthday.

Midnight

At midnight, I stop kissing Aiden and yell, “Happy birthday!”

“Thanks,” he says shyly.

“We have to go somewhere. Grab your coat.”

“Where are we going?”

“It's a surprise.”

“For my birthday?”

“Not exactly. But we will be celebrating.”

It's really cold tonight, and we don't run into anyone as we make our way to the chapel. Riley and Dallas are waiting for us downstairs, in the hall outside Stockton’s door.

“You're late,” they tell us.

“I had to wait until midnight, so I could wish Aiden a happy birthday!”

“Happy birthday, Aiden,” Riley says with a fist bump.

“What are we doing down here?” Aiden asks.

“Traveling to paradise,” Dallas says very seriously.

Riley puts his key in the lock, opens the door, closes it behind us, and then hits the lights.

I'm expecting Aiden to be wowed, but when the lights come on I'm saying Oh my gosh right along with him.

“Holy shit!” Riley says, bouncing on his toes like a little kid.

The room has been transformed. It no longer looks empty and unused. The walls behind the bar are stocked with top shelf alcohol and twinkle lights have been strung across the ceiling.

We run behind the bar.

“The keg’s full,” Riley says joyously.

Dallas opens what looks like a humidor sitting on the bar. You'd swear he just found the Holy Grail. Dallas looks in the box and backs away in awe. “This almost makes me cry,” he says. “Look.”

There are freshly rolled joints lying in layers in the box.

“Ohmigawd!” Riley screams.

“What?”

“There’s a furry rug!”

I run over to a corner of the room, which has also changed. The corner is now mod and plush. There’s a huge furry white rug. A sparky little chandelier hung in the corner. New furry purple beanbags and pillows scattered across the floor. A black curtain with holographic beads dangling from it.

“I wonder what’s behind the curtain?” I say, pushing it out of the way.

Riley drops to his knees onto the furry rug, his hands folded devoutly, as I reveal a cozy king-sized platform bed wrapped in layers of overstuffed comforters.

“I’m going to kiss my brother on the lips next time I see him,” Riley says.

Aiden, who's been standing in the middle of the room in shock, finally says, “What is this place?”

“Heaven,” Riley replies as he falls face first onto the bed.

“Come here,” I tell Aiden, grabbing his hand and showing him the names scrawled on the wall and the poem from the room's founders.

My phone buzzes in my pocket.

Cam: How'd I do?

Me: It's like the Room of Requirement. Your brother's lying on the bed thinking he's died and gone to heaven.

Cam: A word of advice?

Me: Please.

Cam: Don't EVER invite Whitney. I know she's been nice to you lately, but don't believe it. She's just biding her time, waiting to strike.

Me: Okay.

Cam: And I love my brother, but I didn't think Dawson could handle it. I'm a little on the fence about his decision making.

Me: Other than lunch, I’ve hardly seen him.

Cam: I heard about him and Brooke. Another disaster waiting to happen, don't you think?

Me: I don't know. Probably depends if her ex changes his mind.

Cam: Exactly. Did Dallas find his present?

Me: Yes. He almost started crying.

Cam: What about yours?

Me: Mine?

Cam: The lights on the ceiling.

Me: Now I want to cry.

Cam: :) You need to leave now. Curfew.

Me: Oh shit, we do.

Cam: There are multiple exits. You'll bring friends in the front door, but don't leave from there any more. There's a map marking the exits on top of the bar. You can let people leave whenever they want to. Just send them out one of the exits. They are one way and take you to different points on campus. Hit the button on the paneling under the founder’s poem. Use that tonight. Have fun!

“We have to go, guys. It’s almost curfew. Cam said to go this way.” I press the hidden button and a small doorway appears. Through it is another clean and fairly well-lit tunnel.

“We need to run,” Aiden says.

The tunnel is long, and I'm really worried we’re going to miss curfew. Only a few minutes later, though, we slide open a door and find ourselves in the basement of Hawthorne House.

While the boys high five each other I tear out an exit door and run to my dorm. I'm late, so I knock softly on the window.

Katie helps me in. I quickly run into my closet, strip off my clothes, and throw on a robe.

A knock at the door causes me to launch myself onto the bed and pretend to be asleep.

I hear our house mom say to Katie, “Is Miss Monroe here?”

I sit up in bed and try to look sick, rubbing my eyes for effect.

“Sorry, I think I forgot to sign in. I'm not feeling great.”

She walks over to my bed and observes, “Your cheeks are flushed.” She places her hand in my forehead. “You’re warm and a little sweaty. Do you have a fever, dear?”

“Uh, maybe?”

“Well, get some sleep, and if you don't feel better in the morning, go see the nurse. We've got two cases of the flu in the dorm already.”

“Okay, I will.”

A few minutes later, Katie peeks out the door to make sure she's gone. “Whew! That was close! I about died laughing when she said you were flushed.”

“Yeah, I was flushed. From running like a maniac!”

“Were you at Aiden’s?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you going to Bryce’s tonight?”

“I thought Shark was having the party.”

“No. I'm pretty sure Bryce is.”

“Oh, well. I’m probably not going to anyway. It's now officially Aiden’s birthday.”

“Ohhh, how are you going to celebrate?”

I shrug and smile.

“Have you guys yet?” she asks. “Are you going to for his birthday?”

“We haven't yet. I want to wait. What about you and Bryce?”

“We've done everything but. He needs to ask me to be his girlfriend and go to Winter Formal before I will.”

“Has he said anything about it?”

“Not really, but every time someone gets asked, he asks me if I thought the way it happened was cool.”

“What do you want him to do?”

“Just something that shows he put some thought into it.” She lies down. “I’m going to take a nap. Oh, and if I'm not home in the morning, I'll be at Bryce’s.”

“Sounds good.”

I'm brushing my teeth when my phone rings with a call from B.

“Hey! Happy birthday!”

“Thanks,” he says. “And thanks for the presents. The skateboard is wicked sweet.”

He's saying the right things, but there's something in his voice. Something’s off.

“What's wrong, B?”

“There was something weird delivered today. Before I opened it, I thought it was from you.”

“What was it? Was it from Vincent?”

“A Malibu Ken doll. It had a noose around its neck like it had been hanged.”

“That doesn't seem like something Vincent would send.”

“I don't think it was. I'm neck and neck with a real asshole in this weekend’s competition. We have a saying, like when we screw up, that we hung ourselves. I think maybe he's trying to psyche me out. I'm getting ready to go out there. Look, I'm sorry I couldn't help you on the takeover. Um, and, well, there's something else.”

“What?”

“I’m pretty sure I'm being followed.”

“Did you tell Garrett?”

“Well, the security dudes. They've seen him too. It's just all messing with my head.”

“B,” I say softly, “do you remember when we were in Biarritz? When those local guys were giving you shit about how big the waves were? Do you remember what you told me before you went out there?”

“That I'd find control in the chaos.”

“Exactly. The waves were crashing. The guys were saying you couldn't do it. But you went out there and found a wave you could control. That's what you need to do today.”

“Keats, you inspire me in a way no one else can.”

“You know in your heart that you can do it. Sometimes you just need to hear someone say it.”

I hear his name announced over a loudspeaker.

“I’m up.”

I hear him mutter, “Control in the chaos,” before he hangs up.

I get into bed, grabbing my laptop and plugging in my headphones so I don’t wake Katie, and do something I've yet to do.

I log into the live feed of the surf tournament and watch.

The swells are huge. The sky looks dark, like it could storm.

The announcer is loud. I turn the volume off, watch B paddle out, and quickly pop up on his board.

The wave he chose loves him.

He moves like he's part of a symphony of water, waves, and wind.