Love Me

“Could be. But she was with us the whole time.”

My mind drifts to Aiden handing me a little star today in French. Me getting mad at him and tossing it back. 

Then tonight. The cake. The peace offering. 

Could Aiden have done this?

But that doesn’t make sense. 

They were for the dream girl. 

But in class he said something about my sisters liking them. About how they reminded me of home. Was he just trying to get rid of them?

"I think I might know,” I whisper to Katie.

I grab my phone from my bedside table and call Aiden.  

“Hey, Boots, what's up?” he says, in his smooth delicious voice. “Get it? What’s up?”

“Aiden, did you . . .” 

He doesn't let me finish. “The answer to your question is yes. I did put stars all over your ceiling.”

“They’re beautiful. But I don’t understand why you did it.”

“I did it because I think it’s time you finally knew that the stars were always for you. Always. Only. Ever. For you.”

Monday, October 17th

Lie here and swoon.

11:25pm

“But why?” Tell me, Aiden. Tell me that you fell head over heels in love with me when I kicked a soccer ball at your head. Tell me that when we kiss it feels like I'm kissing your soul. Tell me that your heart beats for me. Tell me that I was made for you.

“I just thought you should know that you were the person I wanted to ask to Homecoming.”

“But then why did you tell Riley what Whitney did? Why did you help keep Dawson and me together?”

“Because I don’t like to see you hurt. And, honestly, I didn’t think he’d come back right away.”

“I cut my knee.”

“I know you did.”

“I thought they were for someone else.”

“I know that too.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Once Dawson asked you, it was like boom you were dating, then boom you were saying I love you. What was I supposed to do at that point? But I think it’s for the best that it worked out this way because I feel like I’ve gotten to know you better. I'm glad were getting to be friends.”

Friends? Friends?! FRIENDS!?

I don't want to be his freaking friend. I don't even like him that much.

Shit. But still.

“It was sweet, Aiden. Whatever your reasons.”

“It's not all sweet. Every night when you go to sleep, I know you’ll see the stars and think of me. Sweet dreams, Boots.”

I end the call and look at my ceiling, remembering how sick I felt when I thought they were for someone else. How perfect it would’ve been. How he had touched my pinkie. How just his touch causes me to react in a way I've never experienced. How I would’ve said yes, then rolled to face him, and kissed him.

Maybe I would have even given that boy some tongue.

I want to lie here and swoon, but . . .

I sit up and flip on my lamp. "Katie?”

"So, Aiden did it?"

"Yeah." I tell her about the stars. About all that happened. About how I was wrong. “But there's something else."

"What?"

"He told me he's glad we're becoming friends."

She frowns. “Friends? He wants to be your friend?”

“I don’t know. Do you think I was just friend-zoned?”

“Do you really think he'd put up all these stars for just a friend?”

“Um, I don't know for sure.”

“Turn your light back off. They’re pretty,” she says sleepily.

“Yeah, they are.”

I lie down and wait for them to start glowing again.

And I keep reminding myself.

They are just stars. Just stars.

They don't mean he loves you. They mean he was going to ask you to Homecoming. As a friend.

My mind goes to the dream girl.