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“I didn't know how you felt.”
“How could you not know how I felt? I've told you a million fucking times this summer that I love you.”
“Well, maybe you need to learn to communicate better.”
“Maybe you need to grow up. Stop worrying so much about what people think and start worrying about what you think.”
I immediately get tears in my eyes.
I swear, I'm normally not such a crybaby.
“Don’t yell at me. I can't take it.”
He grabs me. Hugs me tight.
I lay my head on his chest. The place that used to feel so wonderful now feels foreign. “So we were already going out?”
“I told you, I love you. We were together because we wanted to be. That's all that mattered.”
“No, knowing where you stand is what’s important. And after tonight, I knew exactly where I stood with you. That’s why I broke up with you even though we weren’t actually going out. And I kissed Cush.”
He purses his lips. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why did you kiss him?”
“Because you didn't like me enough to want to date me. We had sex the other day, and you said I'm glad we can chill together. That’s why. So are you telling me that we were in a relationship? Like you were my boyfriend?”
“Labels matter way too much to you. All the way down to the ones in your thousand dollar boots.”
I look down at the boots Cush gave me for my birthday.
Be bold, Keatyn.
I raise my chin up, stand up tall, and put my bitch on. “Lots of guys tell you they love you just for sex; even my mom, who is in a we’re-together-but-don’t-label-it relationship, asked me about my birthday. Wanted to know if you asked me out. If you gave me a ring or anything.”
“A ring?”
“Not like engaged. Just something to show the rest of the world you wanted to be with me.”
He flips his hand over and shoves his fresh tattoo in my face. “Tattoos last forever, Keats. I thought we would too.”
I start crying again.
“You should’ve known,” he pokes my chest, “in here. You don't know if I'm the one, do you?”
“I wanted you to be the one. I've loved you since the day I met you.”
“You had a crush on me. That’s different than true love.”
“And you’re telling me you feel that way about me? You can’t. You just decided to leave me for a year. You didn’t ask me to be your girlfriend, and you only like me when I’m your laid-back surfer girl. When I’m me, you don’t really like me that much. You want me in your world, but you don’t want to venture into mine.”
He runs his hand through his hair and shakes his head. “I know everything you’re saying is true. But I did love you. I mean, I do love you. I wasn’t lying. I just figured if fate wanted us together it would figure out a way, because I couldn’t figure it out myself. I couldn’t figure out how I could have my dream and you too.”
“Well, you pushed fate along. You didn’t dance with me. You didn’t try to be nice or meet any of my other friends. You make fun of my amazing shoes and called my gorgeous dress slutty.”
Brooklyn nods his head. He knows what I’m saying is true. “So what are we go
“You’re going on tour, and I’m going to boarding school. I’m going back out there.”
Mom looks surprised to see me back out in the family room. “It's late, Keatyn; why don't you get some sleep? You’ve been through a lot. We can figure this out in the morning.”
“Mom, I’m not going to be able to sleep. Probably ever again. Besides, it is morning. I feel better since I took a shower and talked to B. I finally know where we stand.”
I sit down next to Mr. Moran and hand him Tommy’s laptop. “Would you mind showing me the school’s website?” I ask politely.
He types in an address and turns the screen to face me.
I click through the site.
“That looks very nice,” Mom says, hovering behind me. “Look at the gorgeous trees.”
Mr. Moran continues his sales job. “It's a beautiful campus—a lot like a college. And it's very exclusive. Most of the kids go on to Ivy League schools.”
I click on the soccer page.
Mom says, “Look, honey, you could still play soccer.”
“Yeah, it looks nice. Mr. Smith, if you think it’s safe, I’d like to go there.”
My phone has been vibrating all night. While they are still talking about boarding school and clicking through the website, I take it out of my pocket, plop down on the couch, and read the texts. Lots of people have asked about the after-party. They wanted to know if it was rescheduled.
So far, no one has asked about me.
Then there are the texts from my best friends.
Vanessa: I thought you picked Cush and that things would be back to normal this year, but canceling the after-party without any explanation is the last straw. Everyone has been asking me about it, like I’m your social secretary. I told them all to fuck off. I had your back on the Cush thing, but you can't be trusted anymore. I’m giving away your seat at our lunch table. You’re through.
Vanessa: And p.s. I decided I’m going to keep Cush for myself. That boy is fine.
RiA
Cush: Keatyn, are you okay? Someone said you were on the ground throwing up, and then they a
I quickly reply to Cush.
Me: Can’t talk right now. Major family drama. You’re right. I’ve never done drugs. Never will. I threw up because I was very upset. Vanessa is pissed I canceled the after-party. Says it’s the last straw, that she’s giving away my place at our table . . . And that she’s going after you :(
Cush: Well that was easier than we thought :) Now we can sit wherever we want. Hope everything’s okay. Call me as soon as you can. No matter how late. I’ll be waiting. I had so much fun tonight. And you told me you love me, so that makes it the best night of my life. Even better than the night at the hotel.
He’s so sweet. I start typing my reply.
Garrett practically rips my phone out of my hands. “What are you doing? You can’t have this.”
“I need to talk to my friends. Explain to them what’s going on.”
He sits down next to me. “This is going to be the hard part. You can’t talk to your friends. You can’t tell them anything.”
“I can’t just leave. I have to explain it to them. Like Cush. He and I . . . like, I can’t just disappear with no reason.”
“You have a very big reason why you need to do just that. Was he the other boy in the photos?”
“Yes, that was him.”
“What does Vincent think your relationship with him is?”
“Um, Cush was my date at one of the parties in the pictures, but I told Vincent he was just my friend . . . wait, do you think he’s in danger? Do you think my friends could be in danger?”
“I think he will use any means necessary to find you.”
“Last Vincent heard, I was dating Brooklyn. I told him about our summer in Europe.” I think about Cush and how happy I felt tonight. I lower my voice so only he can hear. “You don’t understand. I told Cush that I loved him tonight. We’re getting back together. Like, I finally figured out who the right guy for me was. Please don’t make me leave without talking to him. I can’t do that to him. He would be so hurt. He got hurt once because of me already. Please, I’ll lie to him if I have to, but I have to talk to him. I have to.”