“Yes, I do.”

“Riley?” I whisper.

“What?”

“Is Aiden okay?”

He pulls me out into the hallway. “He’ll be fine.”

“I appreciate you standing up for me, but you shouldn’t have done that. You could’ve gotten suspended or expelled.”

“Look, I need to go talk to Ariela. She’s upset.”

“Because you punched Aiden?”

“Yeah, she thinks it’s because I like you.”

“But you don’t.”

“You and I know that, but she doesn’t. I need to explain to her that I didn’t do it because of you.”

“You didn’t?”

“No. Aiden made me a promise and he broke it. That’s why I punched him.”

“What promise?”

Riley shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter anymore. Let’s just say we were both wrong about Aiden.” He gives me a kiss on the cheek. “You going to be okay while I go?”

“Yeah. The pity party is sorta keeping my mind off things.”

I go back into their room and sit on the bed.

The boys go on and on about Aiden getting punched. How he hit the ground.

I can’t help it. I swore I wasn’t going to look at my phone, but I do.

There’s nothing.

So I message Peyton.

Me: I’m sure by now you heard what your brother did. I hope you understand that I have to un-invite you to St. Croix. I’m not mad at you, but your stupid smile is just like his and I can’t bear to look at it all break. I’m sorry. I hope this doesn’t affect our friendship.

Peyton: What happened? Really.

Me: We got in a fight last night. I told him I was done and walked out. But I didn’t mean done, like over. I was just done fighting. I was planning to apologize this morning, but Chelsea was waiting for me outside my dorm. She told me they hooked up last night and are back together. I was really upset and ran to Riley’s room, crying. He went and punched Aiden.

Peyton: I understand about the trip. Are you still going?

Me: Yeah. I need to get away.

Peyton: All alone?

Me: Definitely.

The guys eat all the pizza and then someone goes and gets a bunch of cupcakes from the café. They hang out, laugh, and talk about the big playoff game this week.

I go sit down next to Jake, who just joined us.

“Pity party, huh?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

“What happened?”

I don’t want to talk about Aiden, so I grab a cupcake, pretend I’m going to eat it but, instead, I shove it in his face.

I giggle because he has frosting everywhere.

“Oh, you’re in trouble now, Monroe,” he says, chasing me down the hall.

I hide behind Dawson, who is coming back with more cups.

“Save me!” I scream.

Jake tries to jump around him, waving a cupcake at me. He sticks the cupcake up to Dawson’s face, getting a little frosting on it.

“You’re on your own,” Dawson tells me.

I don’t want to be on my own, so I throw my arms around Dawson’s neck, jump on his back, and hide my face behind his neck.

“She’s a devious one,” Jake says.

Dawson swings his body around, trying to get me off his back.

It doesn’t work.

Until they start working together.

Jake hands Dawson the cupcake. I try to push his hand forward so that it slams into his face, but Jake grabs me around the waist and tries to pull me off Dawson.

Dawson reaches around with his free hand and starts tickling my side.

I giggle, scream, and lose my grip around his neck.

Jake was pulling hard, but I don’t think he was prepared for the shift in momentum because he falls onto his back with me landing squarely on top of him.

Dawson turns around and pounces on us both.

“This is a new outfit! Don’t get frosting on it!”

“Tough shit,” he yells as he straddles us both.

While Jake struggles under our combined weight, Dawson grins and shoves icing onto our faces. Then he takes the cake part and crumbles it into our hair.

Jake yells, “As soon as I get up, you’re dead!”

Dawson doesn’t let him up; instead, he leans down and starts licking frosting off my cheek.

“Oh, Dawes, you’re making me hard,” Jake says jokingly, which causes Dawson to stick a frosting-covered tongue out at Jake.

I laugh, turn my head away from his tongue, and notice feet.

Jake goes, “Oh, hey, Aiden. How you feeling, buddy?”

I freeze.

I’m thinking this might look bad. Me in the middle of a boy sandwich.

Being licked.

Dawson stops screwing around and quickly pulls Jake and me up. We all stand there awkwardly.

I take a second to really look at Aiden.

His face—his beautiful, perfectly-sculpted face—is swollen and bruised. There are red crusty bits around the bottom of his nostrils. His skin, which is usually radiant, has a slightly gray tinge to it. It screams of hangover and pain.

Aiden stares at me.

Me, who was just lying on the ground sandwiched between two boys and getting frosting licked off her face.

Me, who wants to reach out and make the bruising go away.

Me, who wants to kiss away his pain.

There is more awkward silence, then finally Aiden states, “I’ve felt better.”

He slumps his shoulders and continues toward the stairs.

“Well, that was awkward,” Dawson says once he’s gone.

“He looked really bad. I feel really bad,” I confess.

“Why? He deserved it.”

“Did he?” Jake asks. “Regardless of what happened with Chelsea, you weren’t going out. You upset him. He got drunk. Then he goes to practice hung over and gets his nose broken by a friend.”

Dawson says, “He did look bad. Do you want to go talk to him?”

“No. I texted him. Told him I knew he hooked up with her. He hasn’t replied. Hasn’t apologized. Nothing.”

“I doubt he’s had time,” Jake counters. “He was throwing up this morning and then went to practice. Since then, he’s been either with the trainer or the dean.”

“He said he deserved it. He’s not going to text me. What would he say? Sorry for hooking up with her. Except, really, I’m not sorry because this is what I’ve wanted since last year.”

“I think you should go talk to him,” Dawson says.

I peek at my phone again, wishing he would say something.

Anything.

Some kind of explanation.

Because I don’t understand how I could’ve been so wrong about him.

I frown.

Dawson must see the disappointment on my face because he says, “Why don’t you come to my room? I think I have some more rum.”

“I need some rum.”

We get to his room and find a mostly empty bottle of rum.

“You can have it,” he says, handing me the bottle.

I grab it and take a big swig, realizing that since seeing Aiden, I need this pity party more than ever. I get tears in my eyes.

“Don’t cry,” Dawson says. “You know, something like this happened to me and Whitney once. We got in a fight. I was upset. Got drunk. Got taken advantage of.”

“You got taken advantage of? By who?”

“Just this chick on the dance team. She knew I was drunk. Knew I never would’ve kissed her if I wasn’t.”

“What were you fighting about?”

“I don’t even remember, probably something stupid. My point is, I was upset. I wasn't looking to hook up. I wanted to get drunk. Period. Then the next day, I was planning to beg for her forgiveness. I’m just saying, maybe Aiden didn’t mean for it to happen.”

“He’s wanted her all semester,” I say sadly.

All of a sudden, I don’t care about making a mistake. I need Dawson to hold me. I need him to make me feel good. Make me feel like someone cares about me. Someone wants me. I know it’s wrong. I know I shouldn’t need that. I know I will regret it.

But I don’t care.

I lean in to kiss him.

He puts his hand up and stops me.

“What?”

“We’re not gonna do this.”

“Why not?”

“I want you. You know I do, but I think it would be a mistake.”

“The last time I made a mistake it was the best sex of my life.”

I push him onto the bed and throw myself on top of him. I wrap my leg around his and slowly rock my hips into him. Kiss his neck. Try to undo his shorts.

"Keatie, damn. Stop, okay? I'm trying really hard to do the right thing here." He pushes me back. "You do what you just did to me to Aiden?"

"Uh, kinda."

"Gotta give the guy credit. No way I could say no.”

“Good. Untie this,” I say, pulling at the knot holding his workout shorts on.

“Except, that I’m saying no now.”

I flop over on my back. I swear, if I someone says that word to me one more time, I’m gonna lose it.

Dawson hovers above my face. “I’ll make you a deal. Settle it with Aiden. If it’s really over then I'll do anything you want."

"How about, for now, we just kiss?"

“Nope. You need to go talk to Aiden.”

“No way!” I pull my shirt up. “Look, I have on a really pretty new bra.”

He pulls my shirt back down.

“I’m trying to do the right thing here. Go. I'm serious.”

I stamp my foot. “Dawson, you're supposed to be my friend. I’m throwing myself at you.”

“Trust me, our friendship is the only thing keeping me from ripping those panties off you. That, and your phone’s been buzzing.” He grabs it off his nightstand and looks at it. “He tried to call you twice. He also texted you.”

I swipe the phone out of his hand and look at it.

Hottie God: We need to talk. My room. 7:00.

I glance at the time. It’s 7:10.

“I’m not going. He’s not going to order me around.”

“Just go see what he has to say, then decide what you want to do.”

“What I want to do is go upstairs, tell him to fuck off, and then come back down here and fuck you.”

Dawson shakes his head. “I saw the way you looked at him in the hall. We’re not doing that, Keatie. Not tonight.”

He gives me a hug and pushes me out the door. “Go.”

Leaving the safety of Dawson’s room makes me feel very alone.

I walk down the hall, up a flight of stairs, and stand in front of his door.

I can't believe I’m standing here.

It’s bullshit. I’m not talking to him.

What is there to talk about?

All he’s going to say is that he’s back together with her. Give me some lame apology.

Make me cry again.

No.

I can’t do it.

I can’t listen to those words come out of his mouth.

My heart can’t take it.

Bryce’s door opens from behind me and Katie pulls me into his room.

“We need to talk,” Bryce says.

“About what?”

“About last night,” Katie says.

“What do you mean?”

“Aiden didn’t hook up with Chelsea.”

“What do you mean? She told me they did. Told me they’re back together.”

“It’s not true. Bryce was there. The whole time.”

I drop to Bryce’s bed. “I don’t understand. Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“Because I just figured it out when I talked to Katie. After Riley punched him, I was helping Aiden. He told me he got punched because of a broken promise. I figured it had something to do with you, but he wouldn’t say. He’s either been with the dean or getting medical attention since Riley punched him. I don’t think he even knows what Chelsea did. His phone was in my room all day. And he just got back.”

“Tell me what happened.”

Bryce sits down next to me. “We were at the Cave and it started raining, so I dropped Katie off at her dorm. When I got back here, Aiden had already been drinking. I was getting ready to ask him what was wrong when Chelsea barged in looking for alcohol. She saw Aiden, said she needed to talk to him, and pulled him out to the hall.”

I shut my eyes tightly. “Never mind. I don’t want to hear this.”

“Let me finish. I opened the door and Chelsea had him pinned against the wall. She kissed his neck and he pushed her off of him. Which, considering how drunk he was . . . So, anyway, she’s not one to take no for an answer, so she dropped to her knees, unzipped his pants, and told him that she could make him feel better.”

“He let her unzip his pants?!” I cry out.

“Yeah, but let me finish. Then he grabbed her chin and said, Don’t ever fucking touch me again, stumbled back in here, and slammed the door shut.”

“He must have snuck out later and met her, then?”

“He didn’t. He was in my room for the rest of the night. Puking.”

“I just don’t get why she’d lie.”

“Chelsea wants every guy for herself and loves to cause trouble,” Katie replies.

But Bryce counters, “That’s not really it. Last year they dated and went to Prom together. At Prom, he found out that she’d been screwing around on him, so he broke up with her. It wasn’t until he showed interest in you that she started apologizing and telling him she wanted him back.”

“Why would anyone be so mean? To lie like that?”