“Fine. Dance with them at the start of the dance. I want all twenty-nine in a row. And then I’m going to kiss you again.”
Pledge my undying love to you.
Ask you to marry me.
Have my babies.
Oh, wait. Sorry. There my imagination goes again.
He glances down at my barely-there dance uniform, raises his eyebrows in amusement, and says, “I saw you cheering for me. You were excited I scored, weren’t you? Can’t wait to dance with me all night.”
“I was standing next to your sister. I had to cheer for you,” I tease.
“See you tonight, Boots.”
Glitter whores.
6 pm
Peyton and I are standing in the coffee shop line after the game.
Whitney struts up to us. “Who picked out the uniforms this year? For God’s sake, you look like glitter whores.”
Peyton stands up a little straighter and says, “The guys really seem to like them.”
“I suppose. Guys are dogs. Are you going to introduce me to the new girl?”
“Uh, sure. Whitney, this is Keatyn Monroe.”
“Nice to meet you,” she says. “Peyton, why don’t you go on. Let us girls get to know each other.”
Oh boy. I know what this means. Queen Bees never say anything mean in front of anyone. They’re like politicians. Plausible deniability. If no one heard it, it didn’t happen.
I put on my fake smile and stand and wait. This should be good.
Peyton nods, puts her head down, and says to me, “You did good your first time out there. Have fun tonight.”
What the hell is wrong with Peyton? She’s confident until she gets around Whitney. Why does she put up with her shit?
But I guess I can’t say much. I was the same way with Vanessa.
As soon as Peyton’s out of earshot, Whitney says, “Heard you kissed Dawson.”
“I . . .”
Her voice drips with venom. “Stay away from him. He’s mine.”
I take a deep breath. I know what I’m about to do is going to piss her off. But I don’t care. She has a college boyfriend, supposedly, was making out with Jake, is making Dawson miserable, and she has the nerve to tell me to stay away from him? Uh, no. No one is ever going to tell me again who I can and cannot date.
“You were kissing Jake at the party. Why do you even care?”
“Look, I don’t know who you think you are, but I can make your life miserable here. Stay away from him.”
I’m Abby fucking Johnston’s daughter is what I want to say.
But I don’t need that.
I’m going to make it on my own.
And my own knows how to play the one-up-you game quite well.
“You don’t have to worry. I don’t want what you have. Besides, my boyfriend already graduated from college.” Well, my ex-boyfriend. But those are just details.
Then I turn on my heel and walk away from her, purposely shaking my glitter whore ass for all the boys in the coffee shop.
Knock his socks off.
7pm
I’m in the dance locker room, eating pizza with the most of the girls on the dance team. We’re laughing and getting ready for the dance. I don’t know many of the girls very well yet, but my initial impression is that they all seem to be very friendly. I’ve been surprised that I have yet to hear one catty comment from anyone. They all seem to get along and have gone out of their way to make me, Katie, and Bethany, the other new member of the team, feel welcome.
My first day here, I looked casual in the knit dress, the cowboy boots, and straight hair. For the carnival, I looked mostly sweet. The little print dress. My hair in a pouf. The leopard wedges definitely gave it an edge, but mostly I’ve looked like a good girl.
Tonight, I’m going to give them a different Keatyn. I’m wearing an Herve Leger black bandage dress. Mom wore this dress to a premiere in London last year. Kym told me I should pack it and wear it tonight for the dance. That it would look killer on me, which is good. The dress has a plunging halter neckline and a body-hugging design that leaves nothing hidden. Every curve of my body is amplified in this dress. And it’s ass-skimmingly short. But, actually, a little longer than the dance team dress I just took off. My shoes are black platform peep-toe Louboutins covered with studs. Tough girl shoes. The only jewelry I’m wearing is my locket and a large silver cuff bracelet.
I’m curling my hair into a riot of big, sexy, just-got-out-of-bed-but-my-hair-looks-ah-mazing supermodel curls.
I do my make up simply, with pretty pink lips and blush, but then add dark, smoky eyes.
I think I look pretty damn good.
At least I’m feeling kinda sexy.
Tonight I look like a bad girl.
And that’s good because somehow I have to get through twenty-nine dances with the God of all Hotties.
And I really want to knock his socks off, and maybe a few other articles of clothing as well.
Twenty-nine songs.
8:30pm
I go to the dance with Katie and Maggie, another cool girl from the dance team. Peyton ditched us to go get ready with Whitney and crew. Which is typical. I don’t care one way or another, but I am glad I don’t have to walk in here alone. We make a pretty good-looking entrance. Katie looks cute in a slinky royal blue dress that shows off her ample cleavage. Maggie is wearing a gorgeous copper-colored dress. It looks really pretty against her auburn hair and tanned skin.
I’m looking for Aiden when Dallas walks right past me, gives me a complete look over, and then walks away.
“Dallas!”
He turns around, looks confused for a second, and then says, “Holy shit, Kiki! Look at you! I didn’t even recognize you. You look freaking hot!”
“I think you owe me a dance.”
“Hell yeah, I do.”
He leads me out to the dance floor. Grinds with me. Jumps around crazily. I should have known he’d be fun to dance with. I dance a long DJ remix of songs with him.
Then another.
Finally he says, “I’m dying of thirst.”
We walk to the drink table and grab a couple bottles of water. “Hey, you wanna go to the cave later?”
“Maybe. Did you hear I owe Aiden like thirty dances?”
“I heard it was twenty-nine. One for every point he scored.”
“You hear way too much.”
“Well, I’m more worried about what I didn’t hear.”
“What’s that?”
“I didn’t hear what happened with you and Riley this morning. Other than that he brought you coffee in bed and planned on not letting you out of it.”
“Nothing happened.”
“Kiki, seriously. We talked about this. No fibbing.”
“Okay, so I tried to put the moves on him, but he turned me down. Told me he just wanted to be friends.” I try hard not to laugh.
“No way,” he says. “You’re lying.”
“Fine. I had a breakdown and cried on his shoulder.”
“Seriously. The cave tonight. We’ll chill, have some fun.”
“Maybe.”
Riley walks up behind us, grabs me around the waist, turns me toward him, and takes in my outfit. “God damn, baby, you look tough. Hot. Fuck-me-in-the-bathroom hot. Speaking of that.” He grins at me.
“I’m not going in the bathroom with you. You had your chance this morning.”
He laughs. “Yeah, right.” Then he grabs both Dallas’ and my hands and pulls us out onto the dance floor.
Riley’s dancing is naughty. Plain and simple. Seriously, I think we could get expelled for this. One hand is cupping my ass, he’s grinding into my hips, and the other hand is running down my arms, in my hair. Thank goodness the dance floor is packed by now, and we’re in the middle of the pack, surrounded by people doing their own version of the bump and grind.
“I have to pee,” I tell him after quite a few songs.
“You’re just trying to get me in the bathroom, right?”
I roll my eyes at him and walk off the dance floor. The boys stay out there. Riley has another girl grinding her butt against him almost before I step away.
I look around for Aiden.
Where is he, anyway?
As I work my way through the crowded dance floor, I walk by Jake. He’s dancing near Whitney, Peyton, and a couple other perfectly-dressed girls.
Jake yells, “Monroe.” Then he grabs my arm and pulls me against him.
“Hey, Jake. Having fun?” I ask, as I dance with him briefly.