Love Me

“Really? No one’s ever told me that,” I lie.

“Did you know that they’re doing a nationwide search to cast an Abby look-alike in the remake of her first film? They’re auditioning in New York soon. You should try out. Riley told us that you’re in the school play.”

“Oh, no. I, um, just do that for fun. For my college applications, you know. I don’t want to be an actor.”

“Oh, what do you want to be?”

“A doctor,” I lie.

“I’m a doctor,” she says, excitedly.

“How cool is that?”

She proceeds to tell me a whole bunch of stories about med school, her former medical practice, and Riley’s birth.

When she has exhausted that topic, she looks at her watch and says, “What are the boys doing up there? They looked sneaky."

"Braxton wants to tell them how he got grounded. Apparently there's a video?"

She rolls her eyes. “We found him at two in the morning filming two girls in their underwear—well, no, they had on teeny jean shorts, high heels, and bras. They were dancing and drinking champagne.”

Ohmigawd. Maybe videos do affect the youth of today. Because I'm pretty sure Braxton was trying to recreate our revenge video.

"And he had them drinking our Dom Pérignon! Do you know how expensive that stuff is?"

Same champagne. Shit. Pray his mother never sees my video. "Yeah, I've heard."

Really nice boobs.

4pm

I'm on the train ride to school. Dawson is sleeping with his head on my shoulder.

“What did you decide to do about Aiden?” Dallas asks me.

“On the train here, I read a Cosmo article. It said if you can’t decide between two boys that means you’re not ready to decide. I thought I wasn’t ready to decide. But now I think I am.”

“Really?”

“Yep. I’m going with the hot sex. You’re right. We’re in high school. We should be having fun. There’s no reason to be tied down and no reason to let your heart get involved. None of us know the future. Since you heard everything else, did you hear the part about how his dad says love grows?"

"Yeah."

"You think that's true?"

"Could be."

“Are you in love with Chelsea?”

"I don't know. I've never felt that instant thing you talk about, but I like her. She's fun and I'm looking forward to getting back to school and seeing her boobs. She has really nice boobs."

I head over to Aiden's room to work on our French homework for a little while before I have to go to rehearsal.

He hasn’t texted me all weekend, so I’m not even sure if he’s still meeting me.

I stand outside his door, my hand up, ready to knock.

As I put my hand on his door, it opens.

And it looks like someone just opened the gates of heaven.

Aiden gently pulls me into his room and gives me a blazing smile.

Then he kisses me.

A slow, perfect, knock-me-off-my-feet, slide-down-a-rainbow and then soar-through-the-sky kiss.

Seriously. It’s like he has some power to unlock whatever sappy love shit is buried in my brain.

"So, I did all my French homework myself. Made A

"Oh, so you don't need me anymore?"

I'm a little crushed by this.

No. I'm the-bug-you-crunched-under-your-shoe crushed. I feel like my carcass should be lying dead on his floor with a white line drawn around me.

He lazily blinks those emerald eyes at me. "No, silly. I just wanted to be able to talk during rehearsal and not have to study.”

"Oh. Can we dance then?” He looks sort of surprised, so I say, “We have time.”

He shuts his blinds, turns on the twinkle lights, and messes with his iPhone, choosing the sure thing song.

He takes two big steps across his room, pulls me into his arms, and sways with me. I put my cheek against his. Feel the fire. Think about the quote Grandma told me about love either warming your heart or burning your house down. Aiden feels like he has the power to do both. Especially now that he is whispering some of the lyrics to me about how he has faith in us.

And I long for that. That kind of love.

If Dawson and I broke up for good, it wouldn't burn my house down.

But am I willing to play with fire? And what will I do if I get burned?

I’m pretty sure I can already feel the flames of Hell tickling my toes.

Ha! I'm dancing in the flames.

Aiden kisses me. Gentle but hot kisses. Then he walks me back toward his bed and lies on top of me, ru

He moves against me. Thrilling me. But only kissing me.

I return his kisses with every bit of passion I possess. Somehow achieving this without using my tongue. Which is a new one on me.

I have one hand behind his neck and my other hand is across his butt, pulling him toward me.

He says, "Hell."

And I wonder if he’s in Hell too.

He pops up off the bed and pulls me up.

"Come on,” he says, as he drags me—practically kicking and screaming—out the door.

On the way to rehearsal, he says, “I’m sorry I kinda got mad the other night. I’d love for you to be my date for the banquet.”

“Okay,” I say happily.

Monday, October 31st

You really are a good prince.

6:30pm

“Well, this is the big scene. You ready?” Jake asks as we’re waiting to go on stage.

For this scene, I’ll be dressed in a ball gown. It’s the big night. The final night in the competition, where each prince has to a

The contestants take turns dancing with both princes.

Part of the contest involves the townspeople’s votes. Who they think each prince will ask.

The Bad Prince happily surprises everyone when he offers to go first.

The townspeople cheer.

They love him. Love how he’s manipulated the girls. Love his cocky, bad boy attitude. Love his tattooed back.

An overwhelming majority of them believe that he will offer his red rose to the Debutante.

The Good Prince, who has alienated most of the country and the contestants, doesn’t share the townspeople’s favor. They voted that no one will agree to marry him.

The Bad Prince walks across the stage. He looks handsome. Rich. Cultured. He waves away the microphone that the a

“This has been a tough choice. All of you will always have a special place in my heart. But one stands out like the brightest star in the sky.”

The Debutante smiles. She’s shaking with excitement. The townspeople are cheering.

The Good Prince just stares at me.

While the Bad Prince walks around high-fiving and fist-bumping the townspeople, we have a moment. The spotlight shines on each of us as we wonder how things between us went so wrong.

Then the Bad Prince grabs a rose off the podium. He pulls a petal off the rose and hands it to the slutty contestant. She looks very confusedly at him and the crowd murmurs, wondering what he’s doing. He keeps going, though. Pulling a petal off and then handing it to another contestant. I’m next in line to get a petal, but he skips me. Shuns me, it seems.

The Good Prince gives me a beaming smile.

After the Bad Prince has handed each girl a petal, he walks back to me, grabs my hand, and pulls me toward him.

“I don’t have a rose for you, my darling. I have something much better.” He drops to one knee and pulls an enormous diamond ring out of his pocket.

This prop is hilarious and will make the audience laugh.

“Marry me,” he says.

My eyes meet the Good Prince’s. He’s obviously devastated, assuming that if the Bad Prince asked me then I must be in love with him. He rushes off the stage, not waiting for my reply.

Tears fill my eyes as I watch the love of my life run away.

The Queen closely watches what transpires.