My friends suck.
When we get to the clearing known as The Cave, Aiden says, “Thanks for helping me. Have a good night.”
I watch him go over to where Nick and Logan are standing. A cheerleader that I don’t really know wraps her arms around Aiden's neck in a greeting.
I study her. Wondering if that’s what Aiden's dream girl looks like.
She's petite, with long dark hair, and a sweet smile. Her eyes are small and just a little too close together, but other than that she has a nicely proportioned face. And a body. A killer body. That kind of curvy body that boys love and I couldn’t get with the best plastic surgeon in all of Beverly Hills.
I look around.
All my friends are paired off. Which explains their lack of texts. Annie is sitting on a log with Ace. Heads together. Holding hands. Deep in conversation. Maggie is making out with Parker up against a tree. Katie isn’t really visible because Dallas is lying on top of her, groping her shirt.
Jake has his arm wrapped around Whitney. She’s smoking a cigarette and he’s drinking whiskey straight out of a bottle.
My eyes flit back to Aiden and the girl.
“S’up, girly,” Shark says, wandering over to stand next to me.
He appears to be a little tipsy, but his eyes follow mine straight to Aiden.
“Is she the dream girl?” I ask him.
“Chelsea? No.”
“She seems to like him.”
Shark laughs. "All the girls like him."
I watch as another girl bounces up to Aiden, shoves her boobs out, and hands him a shot. They click glasses and slam the shots together. Then she starts dancing in front of him. Grabbing his hands and trying to get him to dance with her.
“It appears that they do.” I say, realizing I’ve never seen this side of Aiden. He’s flirting. Laughing. Drinking. Doing shots. He even does a little arm shimmy, which gets the girls all worked up.
He, Nick, and Logan are literally surrounded by girls.
Weird.
“So who do you think will be Homecoming Queen? I’m having a tough time with the odds,” Shark admits.
“Why?”
“Because history suggests that Whitney will win. Every other Clarke has won. But there are other factors.”
“What factors?”
“My personal opinion is supposed to stay out of the odds. I always look at the facts. But the fact is, I don’t care for Whitney much. I’d rather see Mariah or Peyton win. Also, the freshman class is large this year, and I have no idea how they will vote. One would think based on Whitney’s lack of activities, it would give Peyton and Mariah an advantage.”
“Can I tell you a secret?”
He leans his head close to mine. “Will it affect the odds?” He pulls out a flask, takes a swig, and hands it to me.
I nod my head as I take a swig. When the alcohol hits my throat, I want to spit it out. It burns all the way down to my stomach. “What is this?”
“Everclear. Hundred proof. Fastest way to get drunk.”
“Are you trying to get drunk fast?”
He gives me a wide smirk. “No, but I have been known to share with an attractive female or two.”
I laugh. “I see. Trying to get the girl drunk fast.”
“So, tell me the secret.”
“Ninety percent of the freshman class voted for me for Student Council. I never would have gotten on it otherwise. And I was thinking . . .”
“Of swaying their vote?”
I grin at him. “Yeah. But I don't want anyone to know. I want to sway quietly.”
“An underground campaign. Excellent.”
“Something like that. Whitney hates me. And I'm not doing it to be mean to her, but I just think a person that is more involved in school activities should win.”
“So Peyton or Mariah?”
“I'll vote for Peyton, and I hope she wins.”
Shark and I sit down on a newly vacated log. The couple that was sitting here has wandered off, hand in hand.
It makes me miss Dawson.
Directly across the circle of logs, right in my line of sight, is Aiden. Logan sitting on his left. Two girls on each side of them and three girls sitting in front of them in the dirt. Logan appears to be telling a story, and Aiden is occasionally interjecting a comment and laughing.
Aiden's blond hair is practically glowing in the moonlight. The shadows playing across his face make him look angular and more mature. And when he smiles, it's like a god reached down and touched the forest with light.
Shark pulls out a joint and lights it up as Peyton sits down next to him. “What's up, girlie?” Shark says to her.
“I hope you're sharing,” she replies.
He nods, takes a hit, and passes it to her. She takes a big hit, holding it in her lungs for a long time, then slowly breathes out and hands it to me. “Whitney's pissed at me.”
“Why?” I ask, as I pass the joint back to Shark.
“Because I'm going with you this weekend. And I didn't even mention a new dress. She would have come unglued.”
“What did you tell her?”
“That we’re shopping for dress-up days for the dance team.” She takes another deep hit. “Ah, much better.”
Aiden walks over and sits down next to his sister. Shark hands him another joint. As he sucks in, the stubble on the side of his face becomes more noticeable. All that light scruff.
I can sort of understand why the girls were literally sitting as his feet.
A girl leans down in front of Shark and whispers drunkenly, Let's hook up. He stands up, tells us, Duty calls, and leaves with the girl.
Peyton gives Aiden what appears to be some sort of godly telepathic message. They nod at each other and she says, “There's Brad. I need to talk to him.”
Leaving me sitting alone with Aiden.
“Where's the harem?” I ask, slightly sarcastically, as my phone vibrates.
Dawson: I lobe you
Me: I love you too.
Dawson: I druk.
Me: You’re drunk? Where are you?
Dawson: no shoes./'
Me: Where are you?
Dawson: gurl bed partzy
I feel like someone just stabbed me. My cell phone drops out of my hands.
Aiden picks my phone up, reads it, shakes his head, and hands it back to me.
"Um . . ." I look to Aiden, hoping he’ll say something reassuring. That all the awful thoughts I’m having about Dawson cheating couldn’t possibly be true.
But he doesn’t. He just looks at me. With those green eyes. Unfortunately, there’s no confidence in them, only sympathy.
He feels bad for me because he thinks Dawson is cheating on me.
And something else. Something that I always see when he looks at me. It’s like his eyes speak to me. Trying to get me to understand something. Something that resonates deep inside me.
But something that I don’t understand. It’s like being spoken to in a foreign language.
I don’t have a clue what it means.
But I do know what to do.
Me: Your brother is “druk,” can’t find his shoes, and is in a “gurl’s bed at a partzy.”
Riley: Shit.
Me: Yeah.
Aiden says, “Are you okay?”
“Not really. Have fun with the harem. I’m heading back to my room.”
“I’ll walk you. The harem will wait.”
I shake my head. “No, I’m fine.” Tears start leaking out of my eyes. I don’t want Aiden to see them, so I turn around and run. Run through the trees. Run to my dorm window. When I get there, I close my eyes, lean against the side of the building, and start to slide down into the grass.
Aiden is right there. He pins me against the brick wall, moves his leg between mine, and pushes his chest tightly against me.
He looks down at me, taking in my lips like he always does right before he kisses me.
But he doesn’t kiss me.
He shakes his head, wraps his arms around me, and hugs me.