“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.
His head is down. But I can see his arms. His lightly bronzed skin. His blond hair, which he’s been pushing over to the side instead of spiking up because it needs to be cut. He’s doodling on his notebook, causing the muscle in his forearm to flex the same way it did when he trapped me against the wall the other night. When he said, Date us both.
Is that what he wanted to do? Date both me and the Homecoming girl?
Ugghh. Riley was right. He is so the player.
But my curiosity gets the best of me, so I write him a note.
I close my eyes and think about lying next to him. His pinkie just touching mine.
He whispers in my ear. “You better be there, or I’ll quit Social Committee.”
“So quit. I’m tired of you telling me that. If you don’t want to be there, then just quit.”
He leans up a little closer and sighs, his breath warming the side of my face. “I need you. Please?”
I turn around to tell him I’ll try, but when I do my check smashes straight into his lips.