Dancing like we just did comes to mind, but that was more than friendly. I open my mouth, place it on her cheek, then slowly pucker, forming a kiss. Then I gently pull my top lip off her cheek first, the bottom lip staying in place and then-bit by agonizing bit-receding.

Her eyes fly open in shock.

"I have to go."

"See ya, friend," I say playfully, but I don't move. Just raise one of my hands off the wall, giving her a small pathway to squeeze through.

Then she's out the door.

But it doesn't matter, because I know how she really feels. I just need her to stop fighting it.

As I'm lying in my bed later that evening, I realize that it might be more. I try to put myself in her shoes. What if I had to leave home? What if even though I was making friends with everyone here, I knew I was lying to them. She said she hates having to lie to people. It's got to be hard for her. Tonight, although amazing, ended with her leaving pissed off.

She's probably not going to trust-let alone, let herself love-someone who does nothing but piss her off.

I need to be her friend first, I think, if I want to become her everything.

Wednesday, September 28th Stop grinning.

French Back in French and Keatyn hasn't spoken to me at all day. So I'm surprised when she spins around and says to me, "Isn't Logan one of your best friends?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"I heard he's trying out for the part of the Bad Prince."

I can't help but frown as I nod yes. Logan really wants the part. Probably because he will act like a playboy in it. And he'll be kissing numerous girls on stage.

"Is he nice?"

"Logan?" I ask.

"Yeah. He's in my math class. Sits right in front of me. He has a nice looking back, but that's all I know about him. I tried to talk to him yesterday about the play. I don't think he likes me." She sighs. "And I'm not sure why."

"Uh, that's probably my fault," I reply, knowing full well why he doesn't like her.

"Your fault?"

I push my pencil around in a tight circular motion before raising my head. I don't want to answer this question. But, if I want her to be honest with me, I suppose I need to be honest in return. "I may have told him about some of my past frustrations with you."

"So he hates me," she says flatly, putting her head down and turning back around.

Once again, she's mad at me.

Annie looks over at her. "What's wrong? You look like you're going to cry."

I can tell by her motion that she wipes tears away, but she replies, "I think I have something in my eye."

I lean up and whisper in her ear. "He doesn't hate you."

She quickly turns back around, anger written all over her face.

"You must have had wonderful things to say about me to make him hate me when he doesn't even know me."

"He thinks you kind of played me."

"Played you? Are you kidding me? You're the one who got all pissed off and didn't call."

"He's also sort of down on love."

"That must be why he wants to play the Bad Prince. He'll get to be the cynic."

I nod, agreeing. "He is kind of cynical about love."

She gazes into my eyes and, I swear, all I see reflected there is love-no trace of anger, just maybe a little bit of hurt. She sits up straighter and changes the subject. "I think it's funny that Jake is trying out for the part of the Good Prince. He's so not good."

"He's a Prefect," I counter.

She grins. "Yeah, but he's naughty." I can be naughty too, Keatyn, I think. "I love that about him."

Love. "You said that so easily."

"Said what?"

"That you love him."

"Well, not in love. That's different." It sure is.

"Have you told Dawson you love him yet?"

She fidgets nervously. "I told him that I'm ready for the key."

"That's not what I asked." Is it bad that I want to shout for joy? That I'm thrilled she isn't ready to say she loves him, because it just might mean that she's in love with me.

"Well, that's all I'm answering because it's none of your business what I say to him."

I can't help but smile. Big.

"Stop grinning," she says, swiveling back around in her seat. "It's annoying."

And awesome.

Feel like giving up.

Late I'm in my room studying when my sister calls me.

"Hey, what's up?"

"Just studying."

"Can we party in your room tonight?"

"I'm tired, Peyton. I don't really feel like partying. I just want to go to bed."

"Aiden, I really need to blow off some steam. Please," she begs. "You can go sleep in Bryce's room if you don't feel like partying. You do that all the time."

"Why should I?"

"Because you love your sister?"

I look up at the stars on the ceiling. No one has seen them, and I want to keep it that way.

"Who's all coming?"

"You know, the usual. Dawson, Keatyn, Jake, Whitney, Bryce, and whoever else I feel like hanging out with."

I glance at the clock. It's already past curfew. That doesn't give me much time.

"Sure," I say, giving in.

I put my homework down and set up the ladder. With each star I pull from the ceiling, I think about all the memories I've had with Keatyn this year in my room already.

Maybe I should tell her they were for her.

Only for her.

I'm tempted to throw them away, but I just can't. It's like admitting defeat so, instead, I pack them all away in a shoebox.

I'm putting them in the closet when my sister barges into my room.

"I thought you were tired?" she says. "Change your mind? Let's do a shot before everyone gets here."

"Naw. I'm still not finished with my homework." I pick up my notebook and head toward the door. "Have fun tonight."

She gives me a hug as I'm leaving. "You're seriously the best brother ever."

I go across the hall to Bryce's room, feeling depressed. You'd think looking at the stars every night would be what would depress me, but for some strange reason they sort of gave me hope.

"You're not partying with us?" Bryce asks, upon seeing my arms full of books.

"Too much homework," I lie, but really, I don't want to see Keatyn and Dawson all lovey dovey. It's one thing to have to endure it at school, but another thing entirely in my room.

He grabs a bottle of rum and heads out the door. "Come over after you're finished."

I'm trying to concentrate on my French assignment, but I can hear their voices.

Hear Keatyn's laughter.

Sometimes I feel like giving up.

I tear a page out of my notebook and write on it.

Why should I bother?

I lie here and think about it while doodling on the page. Why should I?

I can't come up with a good answer, so I write down my vocabulary words, making sure I know how to spell each one. Then I go back to doodling.

I hear her laughter again, the melody like a song that plays over and over in my head. If I could hear her laugh every day of my life, I would die a happy man.

Then I remember what she said the other day. About how we were love at first sight. Until that moment, I didn't know if she felt it too.

I look up the translation for my answer in French and add it to the paper.

Elle ressentait la mme chose.

She felt the same way. That's why I couldn't throw the stars away. That's why I can't lose hope.

I close my eyes for a moment and remember.

A few hours later, I wake up in total darkness with the covers pulled up around my shoulders. I click on the lamp. My French notebook, which was on my lap when I fell asleep, is on Bryce's desk.

I notice the pencil holder is tipped over and all the pencils on the desk. I get up and look at the alcohol stash and notice that the cake vodka I started buying just because she loves it is gone.

But then I panic, remembering what I had written before I went to sleep. I grab the workbook and find it shoved between the pages. Thank goodness.

I smile, imagining her turning off the light and covering me up.

Which is really kinda sweet.

Thursday, September 29th Who was that?

6pm "You should come watch us try out," Logan tells me as we're finishing up an early dinner.

"For the play?"

"Yeah," he says.

Alicia, who even though Logan has told her he's going stag to Homecoming hasn't stopped sitting with us, says, "I'll come watch you, Logan. And then I'll be cheering for you at the JV game tonight."

"That's great," he says without even a smile. I can tell he's already sick of her clinginess.

We all head to the theater, and I watch both he and Nick try out. I'm going to leave with him until I see the list of names and times each person is set to tryout. Keatyn is coming up soon. At seven.

"Hey, I'll see you later," I tell Logan as he leaves. He's running late and doesn't argue.

A short time later, someone calls out, "Keatyn Monroe."

Keatyn walks up onto the stage dressed in a swingy floral print skirt, a lace top, and cowboy boots. She looks like the sweet Texas girl she's supposed to play.