“His business owns the rights to remake your movie. The movie seems to be the core of his obsession. If he is at risk of losing it . . .”
“He won’t have time to worry about us.”
“That’s the theory, yes.”
“I like that. It feels like we’re fighting back.”
“I like it too.”
“Does Garrett really think it will work?”
“Yes, he’s completely on board,” I say confidently. Well, okay, like, mostly on board. “So, are you in?”
“Do you promise me that everything you do will be approved by Garrett?”
“Garrett or Cooper,” I reply, not wanting to lie to her.
She exhales heavily, like maybe I’ve lifted a weight off her shoulders.
“Then I’m in.”
“Good. I love you, Mom. I have to get back to school, but call me once you get settled, okay?”
“I will. And I love you too.”
Your arm candy.
Ceramics
“We need to talk about French weekend,” Jake tells me.
“What about it?”
“You and me under the lights,” he says.
“What are you talking about?”
“The drama department is in charge of the murder mystery dinner theater for Saturday night.”
“I know. I think it will be so much fun.”
“But you didn’t sign up for it.”
“I have a date.”
“Come on. It’s good for your improv skills. And you need to play the movie star.”
“But I got the most perfect dress. And I wanna sit with Aiden.”
“You and Aiden really need to work on your communication.”
“What do you mean?”
“He agreed this morning that you should do it, and he even volunteered to play your arm candy. He said something about needing the practice. So I wrote him a part. He’ll play your lover slash arm candy. And everyone is wearing their own clothes.”
“He really said that?”
I smile, remembering how Aiden came to almost every one of my rehearsals. How he said he’d be my arm candy. How he put his hand on my knee. How he told me I lit up the stage.
“Yeah, he did,” Jake says. “We’ll all be sitting in the audience with everyone, eating and pretending we’re on a riverboat going up the Seine together. Then, when someone gets killed, right before dessert, we start.” He holds up a very large clay penis and shakes it at me. “Come on. It’ll be fun.”
Bryce laughs and makes a naughty comment about coming and penises.
The teacher walks behind Jake, grabs it out of his hand, and swats him on the head with it. “No vulgarity, Mr. Worth.”
Bryce and I manage to stifle our giggles while watching the teacher take Jake’s art to the back room.
“What do you wanna bet she’s going to put that in her kiln?” Jake jokes.
“Jake!” I screech, laughing.
“Miss Monroe!” My name is yelled from the back room. “Come back here, please.”
“Yeah, come back there,” Bryce says, still cracking up.
I smack Jake on the shoulder as I walk by.
I peek in the back room.
Our teacher is holding my bowl in her hands. “Look!”
“It survived the kiln?!”
She smiles at me. “Yes! And I have a beautiful opalescent overglaze I think you should put on it. It’ll add sheen and highlights without distracting from the craftsmanship.” She digs through a drawer of glazes then holds up a bottle. “Here it is. See?”
“That is really pretty. I’ll work on it tomorrow.”
“Keatyn, I’m really proud of you for trying again. The foundation was the key. It’s why this new version didn’t fall apart.”
I look at my gorgeous bowl and think about Aiden.
When the bell rings, I grab my phone and text him.
Me: Meet me at ceramics!! I wanna show you something!!
Hottie God: Be right there :)
After everyone files out, Aiden steps in the classroom. His tie is loosened, one of his shirt-tails is untucked, and his blazer frames his broad shoulders. He looks like he walked straight off the pages of a magazine. He kisses my cheek in greeting.
“What’s up?”
“Remember my project? How it didn’t survive the kiln because it didn’t have a strong foundation?”
“Of course. It was the inspiration for our love mansion.”
“Guess what!?”
“What?”
“I made a new one—one with a stronger foundation—and it survived!” I grab his jacket sleeve, leading him to the back room. “Look!” I say, pointing at it.
“Wow, that’s really cool. I love the design. All the scrolly pieces. You know what this means, don’t you?”
“That I’m amazing at ceramics?”
“It means if you can’t take the heat, stay out of the kiln.”
“I don’t get it.”
He runs a fingertip across the top of the bowl, then grabs my hips, pulling me close. “It means we’re going to survive the kiln, too. No matter how high the heat.”
Slightly exaggerated.
Lunch
Annie plops down next to me at lunch. “I’m breaking up with Ace.”
“What?! Why?” I ask in shock.
“Because he’s an idiot.”
“Why’s he an idiot?” Aiden asks, leaning toward Annie and putting his hand on my knee.
I try to ignore the effect his hand has on my knee. Actually, on my entire body.
“I don’t know; maybe I’m the idiot,” she says. “Because I know that something happened when he was home. He hardly called or texted me. And since we’ve been back, he’s been different.”
“Did you ask him about it?” Aiden asks.
“Yes, and he had no answer. Just sort of shrugged like it was no big deal. I’m sorry, but if you love someone you don’t ignore them for four days!”
“Maybe there’s an explanation?” I offer.
Jake sets his tray down at the table and says to me, “Did you get in trouble in ceramics?”
“No, she just wanted to show me that my new bowl survived the kiln.”
Jake puts his hand up to high five me, so I smack it. “Did she put my sculpture in the kiln?”
“No, but it was just lying there. She hadn’t destroyed it.”
“I think she wants me.”
I laugh at him. “You’re silly.”
“What’d you make, Jake?” Dallas asks.
“A mold of my dick. Teacher was hot for it.”
“Nice,” Dallas says.
“If that huge thing was a mold, I wanna sleep with you too,” I tease.
Aiden’s grip on my knee tightens for just a second. Like a flinch.
Jake rolls his eyes and laughs. “Fine, it may be slightly exaggerated.”
“Ha! I knew it!” I laugh with him.
“Can we have a serious conversation?” Annie pleads. “I’m freaking out!”
“What are you freaking out about?” Jake asks her.
She gives Jake the eye. “Do you know what Ace did over Thanksgiving break?”
“Went home?” Jake replies.
“Well, then let me ask you this, Jake. Would you have texted your girlfriend over Thanksgiving break?”
“Uh, sure?” Jake says, not very convincingly.
“What if you didn’t? What reason would you have for not texting her?”
“Maybe my phone was dead?”
“What else?”
“I was busy?”
“Exactly!” she says, pointing at him. “That’s what I thought! But busy with what—or whom—is the question.”
“Annie, do you really think Ace cheated on you?”
“I don’t know but, as you can see, he’s not sitting with me today. Look where he’s sitting.”