“I don’t feel very good. I think I’m just gonna stay here.”

“Do you want us to bring you back something?” Annie asks sweetly.

Katie butts in. “Are you sick?”

“Or did relaxing with Dawson wear you out?” Maggie jokes.

“I think maybe a little of both, but I sorta feel sick.”

They head out to dinner.

Am I lovesick?

I call Riley.

He answers. “Hey.”

“What are you doing?”

“Eating dinner with Dallas, Aiden, Logan, Parker, and some other guys. Where are you?”

“I think I’m getting sick.”

“Does Riley need to bring you some soup?”

“I’d love that. I was supposed to tutor Aiden, but he’s mad at me, and I think he hates me again. Wait. Why are you sitting with Aiden? You never sit with him.”

“I don’t know, just did.”

“Oh. If you wanna bring me something, that’d be cool. My throat kinda hurts, so I’m not that hungry, but I sorta am.”

“I’ll find something. See ya in a few, baby.”

I go wash my face, put on some comfy pajamas, and lie back down.

I start dreaming I’m in a car that’s crashing at an intersection.

Riley sits on my bed. I open my eyes, but it’s not Riley. It’s Aiden, holding a styrofoam bowl and a plastic spoon.

I cover my face with my hand.

“You weren’t supposed to come. Why are you here?”

He gently grabs my hand and uncovers my face.

He leans in and kisses my forehead. “Riley said you’re sick. You don’t look sick.”

I’m now positive he can read my mind. Does he just keep getting more powerful by the freaking day? But if he can read my mind, why doesn’t he know that I’m crazy about him?

“My throat hurts.”

“You’re tired. You don’t get enough sleep.”

“You didn’t answer my question. Why are you here?”

“Why does Riley call you baby?”

“I don’t know. He just does. He thinks he needs to protect me. Like a big brother or something.”

“Baby is what you call your girlfriend. Not your friend.”

“Why does it matter? And you still haven’t told me why you’re here.”

“I brought you soup.”

“Yeah, I see that, but why? You left mad at me. But you’re always mad at me, so I’m used to it. You wanna know the real reason I’m still seeing Dawson? That’s why. And I know my saying that is gonna make you mad again, so you might as well take your soup and leave. You’re going to anyway.”

He glares at me, his eyes turning a pissed off shade of forest green.

He sets the soup on my nightstand and walks out my door.

I call Riley and don’t even let him get out a “hey.” “WHAT THE HELL!?”

“Your throat seems to be better. Did the soup help?”

“I haven’t eaten the soup. Why the hell did you send Aiden?”

“He volunteered. I thought you’d like it.”

“One: he and I were supposed to have dinner together, but he got mad and left. Two: I had just taken off all my makeup and put on pajamas because I thought it was you coming. And three: now he is mad at me again. Rileeeeeey, come over, please.”

“I’m supposed to go hang with Ariela.”

I don’t say anything. I just let out a pathetic huff.

“Fine,” he says. “I’ll be right there.”

A few minutes later, he is sitting on my bed.

“She’s pissed at me now.”

“Why?”

“Cause I call you baby, and I just ditched her for you.”

“Didn’t you tell her I’m sick?”

“Yeah, I don’t think that mattered.”

“I’m sorry. Just forget it; go see her.” I bite my lip and start to tear up. What is wrong with me?

Riley stares at me. “Scoot over,” he says as he slides onto my bed. I lay my head on his chest and hug him. “Are you really sick?”

“My throat is scratchy.”

He rubs my back gently. “Eat your soup.”

“I think I lost what little appetite I had when Aiden left. Riley, did you tell Ariela that you liked her right away? Like, how did she know?”

“Baby, seriously, you know Aiden likes you. Why do you keep questioning it?”

“Because he’s questioning it.”

“Why do you think he’s questioning it?”

“I have no clue.”

“Because you are still seeing Dawson, maybe?”

“No way I’m giving up Dawson for someone who doesn’t even know what he wants.”

“Well, that makes sense, I guess. Why don’t you try to get some sleep. I’m sure things will be better in the morning.”

Tuesday, October 25th

English is my new lover.

6:30am

I get up early, see it’s raining, and decide to improve the dreary day with a cute new uniform look. I put on the navy plaid pleated skirt, a bright yellow blouse with ribbon flowers down the front, the navy blazer, and tall Hunter lace-up rain boots in a bright marigold. Over it, I add a short gabardine Burberry belted trench coat, grab a bright yellow umbrella, and then head to the café for a hearty breakfast.

I purposely sit by myself and start studying English. The test is in two days. And for two days, I am on a no-boy diet.

No Aiden. No Dawson.

Just me and English.

English is my new lover. I’ll be like one of those girls who gets all obsessed over a boy when they first meet, and she posts all sorts of lovey shit on her Facebook. Like Ariela did with Riley. All that, Oh, baby I love you, hearts and shit.

I realize I just sounded very cynical. When did I become such a cynic about love?

Oh yeah, when Brooklyn screwed the girl in the cabana and when Dawson dumped me for Whitney.

N0! Stop that!

No thinking about boys!

English. English. English!

I go back to studying my notes.

Aiden slides into the seat across from me. I don’t have to look up to know it’s him, I feel the pull of my heart practically being sucked out of my body.

“You feeling better?” he asks sweetly.

I look up at him. He’s wearing a deep blue oxford with contrasting paisley fabric inside the collar. A navy blazer. And a purple and blue paisley tie, partially tied around his neck. His shoulders still have little drops of rain on them. He looks like he does after football practice, his hair wet, slightly messed up. But instead of being sweaty and gross, he’s all dressed up. The combination of the two make him look unbelievably, adorably sexy. I want to jump over the table and into his arms.

But instead I say, “Yeah, I went to bed early. So, um, look Aiden. I can’t do tutoring tonight. I really need to focus.”

He tilts his head at me. “I told you, I’ll help you study.”

“I wish you could, but lately all we do is fight, and it’s distracting. I really have to study.”

He looks mad. Starts to get up to leave.

“Why do you seem mad? I thought you of all people would understand how important it is that I get a good grade on this test.”

“It feels like you’re pushing me away.”

“I’m not. I just have to pass. I’ve never failed at anything.” Except relationships, I think. “But I’ll make you a deal. Thursday night you can come to rehearsal and study with me. We’ll talk. Maybe work on our framework.”

“Our framework?”

“Yeah, I want to get to know you before I build something that is going to collapse in a heap like my ceramics project.”

“You have an unusual way of thinking, but I’d like that. I don’t think I want to collapse into a heap.”

A fiery kiss.

6pm

I barricade myself in a private study room and try not to think about when I was here with Dawson. I’m making notecards and flash cards, using a highlighter, and doing anything else I can think of to help me study, when I get a call from Dawson.

“What’s up?” I say.

“Where are you hiding?”

“Library.”

“Private study room?”

“Yeah. What did you need?”

There’s a beep beep telling me that the call dropped.

A few minutes later, there’s a knock on the door. I peek out and see Dawson.

“There you are,” he says, pushing through the door and eyeing the jean skirt I changed into after school. “Damn, Keatie, you looked sexy today, but tonight you just look hot.”