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I mean, except for the whole bitch part.
Peyton nods, "Exactly."
"So you're taking Cam to rub her face in it?"
"Yep," she says proudly, tightening her ponytail. "I'm tired of her crap. Tired of her telling me who I should date. What I should do. How I should dress. I'm going on record right now." She stands in the center of the locker room and yells out, "I hate square-heeled grandma shoes!" Then she takes a pair of sensible navy pumps out of her locker and whips them into the trash.
I can't help but flash back to Cush taking off the boots that were trying to kill me and how freeing it felt. How it was about more than just a pair of shoes that didn't fit. I was trying to free myself of Vanessa.
She goes on. "I'm popular. I'm in every freaking activity there is. I should just make my own group. Tell her to fuck off."
I scrunch up my nose. "Um, yeah, that might not be the best idea."
She wraps her arm around my shoulder. "And you are just the girl to be my new best friend."
"Um . . ."
She holds up her hand, shushing me. "No. Please. Don't say anything. Let me revel in the freedom."
"Uh, okay," I say, but I'm thinking, Shit. What did I just get myself into?
Be a rock star.
4:45pm
I stop to get hot chocolates for the girls after dance practice and when I get to our room, Katie, Maggie, and A
Katie turns to me. "Keatyn, come here! You have to listen to our new favorite song. And you should see the video. Hang on, I’m going to pull it up. The lead singer. Holy shit. He is so freaking hot. But, like, dreamy. And, I swear, it feels like he's singing to you. Like you're the only girl in the world."
As she pulls up the video, I see the name Twisted Dreams dance across the screen.
I slowly drop down onto her bed.
"It's not a real video," she continues. "Apparently, they played this song for the first time at a concert in Stockholm and the crowd went crazy. So the next concert—well, watch. You'll see."
The big stage is completely dark except for a spotlight shining down on Damian, who is sitting on a stool holding a microphone. His guitar strap is across the front of his chest; his guitar pushed around to his back. His head is down and his dark bangs are shagging over his closed eyes. The song starts out slow with only his soulful voice.
She's the kind of girl
Everybody wants be.
But no one sees what's inside,
Or that she cries herself to sleep.
But I see, baby, yeah, I see.
She's Miss Popular,
Floating with the crowd.
But it all feels so empty
That she wants to scream out loud.
But I see, baby, yeah, I see.
Suddenly, the stage lights up. The band starts rocking as Damian stands up, kicks the stool away, and sings loudly.
So forget about them,
Come surf the crowd with me.
It ain't the water,
But, baby, it's plain to see.
You gotta do your own thing.
Forge your own path.
Climb up to the top.
Any way you can.
You gotta do your own thing.
Do it up big.
Launch us to the moon.
Now, everybody sing.
The band joins him singing the chorus and so do Katie and the crowd. My eyes fill with tears. I know this is the song he talked about writing when we were in France this summer. About doing what makes you happy. About not following the crowd.
Be yourself.
Do what you love.
And soon we can all
Be a rock star.
Be a rock star.
You gotta do your own thing
Who cares what they think.
Rocket to the moon.
Come on, everybody sing.
Be yourself.
Do what you love.
And soon we can all
Be a rock star.
Be a rock star.
All three of them are still singing, Be a rock star, be a rock star, even after the video is over. Katie swivels on her chair. "Aren't they awesome? I heard they're going to tour Japan next and then, finally, they will be touring here. We have to go see them. Promise me."
I swallow the big lump in my throat and nod at her. "Yeah. We will definitely go."
Katie's phone beeps. She reads it and pops out of her chair excitedly. "That's Dallas. I'm meeting him for di
I laugh. "Let's see. I think you should get him to kiss you. Stare at his lips. He'll get the hint. And I am not tutoring Aiden tonight. I think he's going to study with A
"Aiden said he has something else to do tonight," A
"I have those play tryouts.”
"Oh, I suck as a friend." A
"Don't say it," I interrupt her quickly. "You say, Break a leg."
Katie goes, "But you already hurt your knee. Why would we want you to break your leg? A cast would suck. You couldn't dance. It'd be tough to, you know, have fun with Dawson, and you could only wear one shoe."
"Katie."
"Oh, sorry. I'm rambling." She gives me a hug. "Why don't you wish me luck on the kissing, instead?"
"Good luck," I say.
Maggie says, "She is totally right about the shoes, because you'd probably have to wear flats with a cast. And that would suck."
"Hey, speaking of shoes. Should we all go shopping this weekend? I guess I need to find a gown and stuff for dress up days. A
A
Maggie screeches, “Yes! I’d much rather have you guys help me pick out a gown than my mother!”
“Where should we go?” Katie asks.
“New York. Dawson will be at Columbia, so I thought we could have a girls’ weekend. Shop all day. Stay at my loft. Party all night.”
“That sounds perfect!” Maggie exclaims.
“Hey, Ariela made Court too. Would you mind if I invited her?”
Katie says, “But she’s a cheerleader? Isn’t she supposed to be our mortal enemy during Homecoming?”
“Technically, yes, but she's really nice," Maggie says wistfully. "We were best friends until I accidentally slept with her ex-boyfriend."
"Accidentally slept with him?”
Maggie laughs. "I was drunk."
"Do you hate each other?"
"No, she forgave me, but we really haven't been close since."
“Do you have her number?”
“Yeah, here. I just texted it to you.”
I open the text, add her to my contacts, and text her.
Me: Hey! It’s Keatyn. Congrats on Court! Me, A
Ariela: Is Maggie okay with that?
Me: Completely. She says she misses you.
Ariela: Awww. Tell her I miss her too. I hoped to make Court again this year, but I was afraid to buy a dress early and jinx getting nominated. So I need to shop too. I’d love to go!