I laugh when we get to the spa. It has a total of two columns that flank the entrance to the hot tub. I look over a menu and sign up for a lavender bath. That’s one thing I really miss from home. My bathtub. I soaked it in all the time to relax. My loft has a great bathtub, but I’ve yet to take a bath in it because Dawson prefers showers.
“We’re getting massages and spa pedicures together,” Peyton tells us. “I already booked those.”
I nod even though I don’t need a pedicure, since I just got one right before the dance. I don’t want to rock the boat. Since Homecoming, things seem strained between Peyton and Whitney.
But, since they banished Rachel, Whitney’s down a minion.
I just hoping she’s not looking for a replacement.
No one really talks during the massages, which is fine with me.
Then I get to go soak in a fragrant bath for almost an hour.
I ask one of the spa helpers, who I could tell didn’t speak much English, for a glass of white wine.
Needless to say, she did not ask me for ID, since I was naked in the tub, and I was thrilled when she walked back in with a glass of chilled Chardonnay.
I lean back in the tub, take a sip, and totally relax.
I’m not sure what I think of Whitney, but her idea of coming here was perfection.
After my bath, I throw on my robe and meet the girls for our pedicures.
Whitney politely asks, “How was your bath?”
“It was amazing. They really need to install bathtubs at school.”
She laughs. “I totally agree. So, Keatyn, Peyton seems to think you and I should get to know each other better. That was the whole point of today’s little outing.”
I smile at Peyton. She wears a pained expression, which lets me know for sure that this was not her idea at all. She’s trying to pull away from Whitney, not get closer. I have a sneaking suspicion that this is one of those keep-your-friends-close-and-your-enemies-closer kind of thing. Even though I was nice to her at Homecoming and appreciate her being civil, I doubt we’ll ever be BFFs.
But, then again, maybe I should be nice and give her a chance.
“I’d like that,” I say to Whitney. “Tell me about yourself.”
“Well, you already know that I’m Dawson’s ex and pretty much everyone at school loves me.”
“Loves you or fears you?”
“Same difference,” Whitney replies haughtily, with a wave of her hand. “And, let’s face it, even you like sitting at my table.”
Peyton rolls her eyes but doesn’t contradict her.
“I like sitting with Dawson.”
“Whatever. So, I think you know enough about me. I’m sure you made Dawson tell you all about us.”
“Most of what he told me wasn’t very happy. You hurt him. It hurts to have your heart broken.”
“He told you that I broke his heart?”
“Yeah, he did. We talked about you at the Cave one night.”
“Was that the night he was trying to make me jealous by flirting with you?”
“It was the next night after the dance. Everyone else was partying at Hawthorne, but we both ended up at the Cave. He told me he couldn’t be your friend.”
She scrunches up her nose. “Interesting. So that’s how you got together. Did you sleep with him that night?”
I let out a loud laugh. “Not even close. He kissed me once and that was only to prove to me that he wasn’t a bad kisser.”
“Dawson is an amazing kisser.”
“Well, not when he’s drunk and you’re not expecting it.”
Peyton laughs. “I remember that. He stood up, which knocked Mariah off his lap, and walked straight across the room and kissed you. I actually thought it was kind of romantic.”
“Trying to make your ex-girlfriend jealous is not romantic,” Whitney and I both say at the exact same time.
We look at each other and laugh. “So, you lived in L.A. What do you think of Connecticut?”
“It’s definitely different here. But I like it.”
“Does that mean we’re not getting rid of you anytime soon?”
I chuckle. Gosh, she reminds me of Vanessa. It almost makes me like her. You have to appreciate that kind of confidence. “Afraid not.”
Peyton smiles at me and touches my arm. “I’m glad you’re staying. I know we’re going to be good friends. Especially since we’re in so much together. Dance Team, Soccer, Literary Club, and Student Council.”
I study Peyton. She seems sincere, but I get the feeling she’s listing all her activities for Whitney’s benefit. She didn’t mention Social Committee. She’s trying to make Whitney feel left out.”
“Don’t forget Social Committee,” I tell Peyton.
“Oh, yeah, I forgot about that.”
Whitney glares at her. “Kind of hard to forget about it when that’s why we’re here.”
“Are you feeling inspired for Greek weekend yet?” I laugh, trying to dissolve the tension.
“No, but I really want to go there now.”
“Have you been there, Keatyn? I hear its coastline is very different from the French Riviera where your parents live.”
Her comment makes me pause. How does she know where my parents live? I’ve never been that specific.
Then it hits me.
The school file. It had my parents’ fake address in it.
“I have been to Greece, and you’re right, Whitney, is does look different.”
“So, you’ve traveled a lot?” Peyton asks me.
“Yes, quite a lot. I was homeschooled for most of my life because of my mom’s job.”
“Oh, really?” Whitney asks. “What does your mom do?”
“She’s retired now but, before that, she worked in oil and gas.” Oh my gosh. Where do these lies come from?
It’s really kind of sad how good I’m getting at lying.
Whitney laughs, “She retired when she hit the lottery?”
I sigh. Just when I was thinking Whitney wasn’t half bad, she reminds me what a bitch she is. “Yeah, something like that,” I mutter.
After letting our toes dry completely in the sauna, we decide it’s time to head back to school. Whitney wants to get back in time to have dinner with Jake, and I haven’t seen Dawson all day.
The three of us are standing at the counter to check out. For some reason, they put all of our charges together rather than separating them.
I get my credit card out of my bag and toss it onto the counter at the same time Whitney does the same with hers.
We both say, “I’ll get it.”
Whitney looks at me then down at our cards. My black one next to her platinum one.
I could give a crap what color anyone’s credit card is, but obviously Whitney cares.
She gives me a puzzled look.
I shrug my shoulder, give her a smirk, and don’t hide the sarcasm in my voice when I say, “Lottery.”
A silly waste of time.
7:50pm
I float into rehearsal feeling relaxed.
“I’ve changed my mind,” Aiden says when he sits down next to me.
“About what?”
“About being your arm candy. If you need arm candy, I’ll be there.”
I can’t stop from smiling. “Thank you.”
“You like getting your way, don’t you?”
“Um, yeah. Who doesn’t?”
He laughs at me and then says, “You also need to finish telling me about that script you wrote. When did you write it?”
“I spent most of last summer in Europe and I had a lot of free time. The script is about a girl who makes a wish.”
“Like, one of those movies where two people make the same wish at the same time and when they wake up they’ve switched bodies?”
“No. It’s more like her wish sets other events in motion. Events that make her think she’s on the verge of having everything she’s ever dreamed of. But then it all comes crashing down.”
“How so?”
“She finally gets the boy she wanted. Some guy offers her the lead role in a movie. It seems like her life is getting perfect, but it's not. The boy is selfish and doesn't really love her. And the guy that wants to make the movie with her is, um . . .”
“Sleazy?”
“Yeah, he's sleazy. So is the boy who really doesn’t love her moves away. She decides to move away too. Like, for a fresh start.”
“And then what? Wait, let me guess. When she moves away, she meets a guy? The dream guy she should really be with?”
“I’m not sure. I haven't finished it yet. I stopped writing when I came here.”
“Why?”
“Sometimes it seems like a silly waste of time.”
“That sounds like something someone told you, not what you feel.”
“The boy who moved away. When they were together, sometimes he’d catch her writing. He kind of thought it was dumb.”
“Wait. Are we talking about the script or your real life?”
“The script. I think I’m going to make her parents be famous. Maybe actors themselves. Or screenwriters, or directors. I haven’t figured that part out yet, exactly, but I do know that she’s going to be afraid to follow in their footsteps.”
“I could relate to that. My dad used to talk about me taking over his business. It was all about investments and it seemed really boring. I’ve liked being outside since I was a kid and when we moved to Napa, I felt like I was home. I could ride my horse, play in the dirt, kick a soccer ball around all day and not come in until it was dark. And then I fell in love with the whole growing process. I love the lifestyle. It fits me. Now, if my dad leaves me the Napa place, I will happily take it over. And in the meantime, I want to make a wine for charity.”
“The wine you want to make will be for charity?”
“Yeah, like all the profits will go to good causes. Like, cancer research, maybe. Helping the homeless.”
I study Aiden for a moment. The god continues to surprise me. “That’d be really cool,” I tell him.
Because it would be.
I pull my phone out of my bag and check my texts. I have one from Braxton.
Braxton: Magically delicious got me a date.
Me: Really? A date?
Braxton: Okay, not a date. She’s coming over to help me study. Tonight. In like five minutes. I’m a little nervous.
Me: Why?
Braxton: She’s seventeen. And slutty.
Me: I thought you were grounded. And do you really want a slutty girl?
Braxton: I got the grounding lifted with my exemplary behavior at Homecoming. And I can’t decide.
Me: I think you should find a nice girl your own age. Don’t rush it. Kiss. Enjoy it. Seriously, kissing is my all-time favorite thing. The more you practice, the better you are at it. I think you should focus on that. Not sex.
Braxton: We’ll see. Got any new lines?
Me: Yes. “Have you always been so cute? Or did it take practice?”
Braxton: That’s kind of lame.
Me: Not as lame as Riley’s was. His was “I grind so fine, I’m practically coffee.”
Braxton: That one is AWESOME!! I’m totally using that.
Me: NO! You want to make it all about the girl. Riley’s made him sound like an arrogant jerk. Dallas’ made me laugh. I think that’s the key to a successful pickup line. When you make a girl laugh, you break the ice, and lower her guard. You seem like you would be fun to hang out with. Are there some cute girls in your classes?
Braxton: There’s one that’s really pretty. She’s almost as tall as me. Long dark hair. Big brown eyes with the longest eyelashes ever. I heard she’s going to Eastbrooke’s Prospective Student Weekend.
Me: You should ask her on a date. Take her to a movie. Buy her popcorn. Hold her hand. Kiss her goodnight.
Braxton: I’ll think about it.
Thursday, October 13th
Revoked.
Lunch
Tyrese decides to grace our table with his presence today.
I start to get up when he sits down. “I’m not sitting next to him,” I tell Dawson when he grabs my arm.
“Stay. I’ll tell him to leave.” He turns to Tyrese. “What you did to Keatyn’s friend was not cool.”
Tyrese holds up his hands. “She was all over me, bro. What else was I going to do? I was drunk.”
“Why don’t you go sit somewhere else. You haven’t sat here most of the year anyway.”
Tyrese looks at him, like he can’t believe Dawson chose me over his friend. “If that’s the way you want it,” he says, picking up his tray and walking away.
Minion #2 says directly to Whitney, “What the hell is going on here?”
Minion #3 agrees. “That’s what I’d like to know. Yesterday, you and Peyton take Keatyn with you to the spa instead of us.”
“You’re not on Social Committee,” Whitney says.
“And now, today, the tramp is in charge of our seating arrangements?”
My eyes widen in shock. “Are you calling me a tramp?”
Minion #2 puffs her chest out. “Yes, I am.”
“Then you should go with sit with Tyrese,” I tell her flatly. I’m not going to get all pissed off. It’s what she wants.
“I’m not going anywhere. I’ve been sitting at this table for the past . . .”
Peyton interrupts and shakes a finger at them. “You’ve been sitting at this table for the past two years because Whitney and I allowed you to. That status has been revoked. Effective immediately. Why don’t you take your jealous little selves and go sit with Rachel.”