Just about two weeks later it was both Friday the thirteenth AND the day of the Valentine’s dance. That had to be an omen, right?
“I’m not going,” I told Emmie for the thousandth time. I’d just started to get over the whole Brady thing (sort of, more like I’d stopped obsessing about it every single moment) and the last thing I needed was a fresh reminder of my disaster of a love life.
“Come on,” she said as we entered our dorm room after last period. “You have to. You can’t mope about Brady forever.”
Wanna bet? I almost said but knew that would just earn me an eye-roll and more grief about my not wanting to go to the dance. “Really, Emmie, the last thing I need is to go to a dance that is all about love and hooking up and be like the only single person there. It’s depressing. Don’t you know that more women kill themselves on Valentine’s Day than the other three-hundred and sixty-four days?”
She looked at me sideways. “Is that true?”
I shrugged. “It could be true.”
She sighed and let the door close behind her with a loud ker-chunk. “Anyway, Danny’s not coming, and Celia’s still single, so you’re not the only one of us who will be without a guy there.”
“Still,” I said, dropping my books on my bed.
“You afraid to see him?” she asked, all joking gone from her voice.
Knowing exactly who she meant by him, I nodded, not looking at her. “Yeah. Though afraid might not be the right word.”
“What is?” she asked, dropping down on her bed and motioning for me to sit on mine.
“There isn’t just one word that covers it,” I said. “Except maybe nausea.”
Emmie snorted.
“It’s just,” I started and then looked at my roommate, one of my best friends here at Rosewood; I could pretty much tell her anything. “I want to see him so badly, but every time I do, it’s a disaster.”
“But you haven’t seen him,” she said, frowning.
Right, because I hadn’t told any of them that I’d seen Brady since returning to the states. So much for telling her stuff. “It’s complicated,” I said, hoping that would be a good enough answer for her.
“Just come to the dance, Brooklyn. He probably won’t even be there and if he is, well, you can make out with him in the supply closet or something.”
I couldn’t help but bark a laugh at that, but then looked at her. “It’s not funny, Emmie,” I said and then realized I had just laughed and still had a smile on my face. Which pretty much died right then. “Not the big picture part of it,” I corrected.
She opened her mouth to, I’m sure, continue her attempt at persuasion but I held up my hand to stop her.
“Please, Emmie. I know you think you can wear me down and to be honest, you probably can, but just trust me when I say I really don’t want to go tonight. I don’t want to see him and even if he’s not there, I’m not in the mood to watch Chelly and Kaylee make out with their boyfriends all night.”
“It’s pretty gross, isn’t it?” she said, screwing up her face.
I laughed again. “No worse than when you and Danny do it.”
“That isn’t gross, that’s beautiful. Art, some might say.”
“Yeah, because all art is painted with saliva. Tell me that’s not gross.”
She threw a pillow at me which I managed to duck easily.
“Fine,” she said, laughing. After a moment, her face got serious and she added, “You’re sure you’re okay with Abe and Chelly?”
“More than okay,” I assured her. “They’re actually pretty darn adorable together.”
“Right? He is so into her,” she said dreamily. As though her hot tattooed guy wasn’t totally gone on her.
“It’s mutual,” I said, thinking of Chelly’s recent giddiness and how her boycraziness had now become focused solely on one guy. She was completely smitten.
“Well as liaison again, I have to go to the dance, which is kind of a bummer with Danny not being there. You’re sure you don’t want to come?” Emmie asked and then when I exhaled loudly through my nose, she held up her palms toward me. “Fine okay, I get it. I will make an exception and take no for an answer.” She gave me a mischievous look. “This time.”
Just then there was a knock at the door.
“Come in,” Emmie yelled.
Celia stuck her head in and I waved her into the room. She came in and dropped heavily onto the end of Emmie’s bed and looked at me. “Please tell me you’re not going to the dance.”
“I’m definitely not going to the dance.”
She exhaled in relief. “Good. We will have a united front against Kaylee and Chelly and their matchmaking attempts.” Then she gave Emmie a suspicious look. “Yours too, I’m guessing.”
Emmie shook her head. “Brooklyn already told me she’s not going and since she’s still pining over her hot horse coach, there’s not much I can do to get her hooked up with someone else. You are still fair game, however.”
Celia rolled her too blue to be true eyes. “Nice try.”
“Jenks will be at the dance,” Emmie said, not to be deterred.
“So?” Celia asked, trying to appear unaffected.
Emmie didn’t buy it either. “So, he’s single. You can hook up with him.”
Celia shook her head as she exhaled. “I only get the friend-zone vibe from him.”
“I’ve never seen him with anyone,” Emmie observed. “Maybe he bats for the other team.”
I didn’t know Jenks very well at all, but I supposed it could be possible.
“What is going on with your hot chef?” Emmie asked, changing gears. I was glad she asked because I wanted to know the answer, too, but I couldn’t exactly say anything after making such a huge deal about not wanting my friends’ help for a hook up.
Celia shrugged. “Nothing. We cook, he ignores me, I leave the kitchen. End of story.”
Emmie frowned. “But he’ll be at the dance, won’t he?”
“I don’t know. But...” she sighed. “I think he just doesn’t like me.”
“What’s not to like?!” Emmie demanded, gesturing at our friend. “You’re exotic, athletic, famous, rich...”
“My family is rich, my uncle is famous. Athletic I’ll give you,” she said, with a shrug. “And exotic? Whatever, I guess. But I’m also dumb and like five minutes away from getting kicked out of here. Not much point in getting myself a boyfriend if I’m getting shipped home. Even if he did like me, which he doesn’t. He barely acknowledges me in the kitchen. I thought...I thought there was something there at the beginning, but either I read him wrong or he changed his mind.”
Emmie and I exchanged glances. “Are you really going to get kicked out?” I asked. I knew she wasn’t doing well in her classes, but I figured that had more to do with her not doing any schoolwork than her being dumb. Because while Celia wasn’t committed to school, she sure wasn’t dumb. I’d always figured if she spent half as much time with her nose in a textbook as she did reading romance novels, she’d be an A student. Her problem always struck me more as one of motivation than intelligence.
“Probably,” she said, seeming not as concerned as I thought she should be. Although a muscle in her cheek twitched, which was maybe the sign that she was more concerned than she was letting on.
“I thought Kaylee was helping you?”
She snorted at that. “Not exactly.”
I glanced at Emmie again and then back. “I thought she said she was trying to tutor you...”
“She did try, yes,” Celia said. “It didn’t really work out.”
I thought about Kaylee and how she’d said if she didn’t get into med school, she was planning to become a teacher. “Really? I thought she’d be a good tutor.”
Celia exhaled and picked at her nails avoiding looking at either of us. “I don’t think she’s the problem.”
I wasn’t sure what to say to that. Thank God for Emmie. “What does that mean?”
Shrug. “I’m stupid.”
“What?” I asked, thinking for a second that I’d misheard her.
She looked up at me. “I’m stupid. I can’t learn properly.”
“You are NOT stupid,” Emmie said, sounding all mama bear about it.
“I am. I just don’t get all that stuff. Every time Kaylee tried to help me, I felt even stupider and it made me mad and embarrassed. I probably took it out on her, which wasn’t exactly fair, but...” she shrugged again.
“Maybe you can get a tutor you don’t know,” Emmie suggested. “Like a paid tutor that you don’t have to sleep in the same room with.”
“And who won’t smother me with a pillow someday?” Celia said.
“At least you can laugh about it,” I said, smiling, remembering a couple of their fights that I’d been witness to.
“Only because I love Kaylee and I know she’s just looking out for me,” Celia said sincerely. “And because I have serious ninja reflexes and would totally kick her ass before she got anywhere near me.”
“Of course,” I said. “That, too.”
“But I don’t know,” Celia said, getting serious again. “Maybe I would be better off if the dean did kick me out. I’ll just go work for my uncle.”
“Is that what you really want to do?” Emmie asked.
Celia shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, I’m good at sports, but not good enough to make a career out of it. I’m not exactly cut out for college.”
“It’s not for everyone,” Emmie said. “But you should still finish high school. Don’t get kicked out. What would we do without you?”
Looking at Emmie’s face, I could tell she was totally serious. We were such a tight-knit group of friends and while someday we would graduate and go our separate ways, we still had over a year until that happened.
“I don’t want to leave. It’s just...it’s so hard for me.”
“We will help you,” I said, determined. “Whatever it takes.”
Celia’s blue eyes got glassy as she nodded. “Thanks,” she said, her voice hoarse.
I nodded, understanding that maybe she was avoiding schoolwork because she hated failing over and over, doing only the bare minimum to get by. Though obviously that wasn’t working anymore. “So what are we doing tonight?” I asked in an effort to lighten the mood.
She made a face. “I was just planning to read a new book I got, although now I’m thinking I should probably study or write a term paper or something.”
“No,” I shook my head. “You’re taking tonight off. We’ll start on all that stuff, but not tonight.”
She exhaled in relief. “Thanks.”
I was just about to ask her what she wanted to do when Chelly appeared in the doorway.
“Hello, girls! I’m here to get beautiful for my hot child actor.”
Celia snorted and I rolled my eyes.
“Former child actor,” I corrected. “Otherwise that sounds gross.”
And anyway, like she didn’t always look amazing wearing that confidence of hers, not to mention the red hair and her curves. No wonder Jared was crazy for her. I was half in love with her and I like guys.
“Whatever,” she said. “I need to make myself even more kissable. And maybe feel-upable. We’ll see...”
I turned to Celia. “I think this is our cue to leave and go to your room.”
Chelly looked between Celia and I, her smile disappearing. “Wait. You’re not coming to the dance?”
“No,” Emmie answered for us. “And don’t bother trying to convince them. I’ve done my best and they’re not budging.”
I looked over at her and gave her a little head nod in thanks for shutting Chelly down. It didn’t stop Chelly from pouting a little, but she seemed to understand that Celia and I wanted nothing to do with Valentine’s. Plus, if Emmie couldn’t convince us, no one could.
Kaylee showed up a few minutes later which gave us even more incentive to vacate: Rosewood dorm rooms were cozy for two people, but not so much for five, especially when trying on clothes was involved. We left our friends to go over their wardrobes for the evening and made our way down the hall to Celia and Kaylee’s room.
“So,” Celia said on the way. “Netflix marathon?”
I slid my arm across her shoulders. “Perfect.”
~ ♥ ~
We decided on Sleepless in Seattle, a movie my mother went on and on about as being the best rom com of all time that neither of us had ever seen. I would never tell my mother this, but I did like it. Glancing over at Celia and seeing her glossy eyes as the credits started rolling told me she liked it, too.
“That was good,” I said, handing her a Kleenex from the box on the table beside me.
“Thanks,” she said, taking the tissue and wiping her eyes with it while she sniffled a little.
“What is it about guys with dead wives that makes them so...”
“Hot?” Celia offered.
I glanced at the screen and then back to her. “Not hot exactly...I want to say needy, but that’s not right, either.”
“Part of it is that they need love but also that they were married.”
She seemed very sure of this. “What do you mean?”
She shrugged. “Some woman married them, so obviously they aren’t a total jerk and were marriable. And the marriage didn’t end in divorce so he didn’t become a total jerk. He lost the wife he loved like crazy. He still loves her, which shows he’s loyal but then the new woman wins his heart and heals him.”
“You’ve given this a lot of thought,” I said a little surprised. I mean, for a girl who doesn’t talk all that much and who didn’t have a boyfriend, she sure seemed to know a lot about this.
“I read a lot of romance novels.”
“Right,” I said, smiling. “Everything you know about relationships you learned from romance novels.”
She nodded seriously. “It’s true. You know, people dump on them, but they’re not the heaving bosom books that people make fun of. They’re smart and funny and...”
“Whoa,” I said, holding up my hands when she started getting defensive. “I’m not dumping on them at all.”
She exhaled. “I know, sorry. Just some people get on me about them and think they’re stupid.”
“Maybe...” I began and then realized it wasn’t really my place.
“What?” she asked, looking at me from the corners of her eyes.
“It’s nothing. It’s none of my business.”
“No, really. What?”
I winced but said what I’d been thinking. “Maybe...I mean, obviously you’re smart, but if you read your school books more and the novels less, you’d do better and wouldn’t have to worry about getting kicked out.”
“You, too?” she said, making me think of Julius Caesar’s Et tu, Brute? From our English class.
“I’m not trying to be harsh, but maybe you could balance out your time better.”
She looked mad for a few more minutes and I worried that I’d really pissed her off, but then she nodded. “I guess I could. You’re probably right. Just reading is...I don’t know, it’s like my own little vacation away from school stuff and all the junk going on.”
I understood that. I’d always loved reading. Although I can’t say I’d ever picked up a romance novel.
“Plus, no matter what, there’s always a happy ending,” she added.
“I can sure appreciate that,” I said, thinking about Brady and our lack of a happy ending. But I guess that probably qualified more as a tragedy than a romance.
She nodded and then looked back at the TV. “Should we watch another?”
I glanced up at the clock on the wall. “Sure. It’s still pretty early.”
After a few minutes of surfing, we settled on another old school movie: Can’t Buy Me Love which had a very young McDreamy from Grey’s Anatomy in it. Although, as we watched the opening where he rode around on a lawn mower, he was more like McDorky, though I wished there was some way to go through the screen and tell him the girls who wouldn’t give him the time of day would one day all drool over him.
“He’s kind of nerdtastic in this, huh?” Celia said, summing it up nicely.
“Yeah.”
“Hey, so let me know if you want to borrow any of my novels,” she said. “I’m something of an expert, so I can set you up.”
She sounded suspiciously like a drug dealer. I laughed and said so. She smiled. “They are highly addictive. Anyway, let me know.”
I looked over at her. “Thanks.”
And then, for no reason at all, I blurted out. “I started writing a book.”
Her eyes went wide. “What?”
I nodded. “In London. I got this notebook for Christmas and I was writing about...” I thought about Tristan, my hot little secret. “This guy I used to watch out the window of our flat. It was kind of romantic, I guess. The book, I mean.” My face heated up, but it was dark in the lounge so maybe she didn’t notice.
Celia paused the movie and turned fully toward me. “Really? I’d love to read it,” she said and sounded like she really meant it.
“It’s pretty awful,” I said, cringing as I thought back to how truly awful it was. I wasn’t just saying that trying to be humble about it. “No. It’s really awful.”
“I bet it’s not as bad as you think it is,” she assured me.
“Oh, I bet it’s even worse. Anyway, it’s not finished or anything. I kind of stopped working on it.”
“How come?”
“It was just so bad. Then I thought maybe I’d write my own story—you know all that spy stuff seems really popular—but I sort of stalled out on that, too. Mostly because if my dad found it, he’d lose his mind. Then I came back to Rosewood and it took a while to catch up on school work. Plus I’d promised Jared I’d read his manuscript and I guess I kind of forgot about it.” I exhaled. “Life got busy, you know?”
Celia nodded. “But I bet what you wrote is really good.”
I laughed. “I think your faith in my skill is misplaced.”
“Well...” she cocked her head. “I’m no writer, but doesn’t it take a lot of work? Like, no one writes something perfect the first time. What if you worked on your book?”
“I don’t know...It’s so bad. Although I did like the actual writing part.”
She bit her lip like she was unsure, but said, “What if you had someone helping you?”
My heart fluttered; I liked where she was going with this. “You mean someone who knows a lot about romance novels?”
“Yeah.”
I smiled at her. “That sounds like a ton of fun. I mean, I can’t imagine it would ever get published but who knows, right?”
Her face lit up and she nodded enthusiastically.
“But,” I said, holding up my hand.
Her grin dissolved.
“I won’t do it until you work on your marks. I don’t want to be responsible for you getting kicked out of here. Plus, if you do get booted, then who will help me?”
She stared at me for a long moment and then nodded. “Okay. You’re right. I need to find a tutor. A real one.”
“Good,” I said. “Let’s plan to start after mid-terms. After you kick butt on them.”
She stuck out her hand and we shook on it.
~ ♥ ~
We must have both passed out in the lounge during Can’t Buy Me Love, but when all the girls started returning to the third floor, talking loudly and laughing as they made their way to their rooms, I woke up. I glanced over and Celia was blinking, looking as bleary-eyed as I felt.
“Hey,” I said, glancing up at the clock on the wall.
Celia nodded at me and then glanced toward the door just as our friends came in.
Kaylee had a goofy grin on her face and messed up hair and Chelly’s lipstick was completely gone from her swollen lips, so it was no mystery what those girls had been doing with their respective boyfriends.
Emmie brought up the rear. “There they are!” she said, a bit too loudly. Or maybe I was just crabby from waking up two seconds earlier.
“How was the dance?” I asked.
“It was okay,” Chelly said, plopping down onto the couch next to me. “The guys were asking about you two.”
“Which guys?” Celia asked before I got the chance.
“Well, Abe asked where the two of you were.” Chelly smirked and lifted her eyebrows as she said to Celia, “Jenks asked about you specifically.”
“Really?” Celia said.
“Maybe not a friend zone vibe after all,” I said, rubbing my eyes free of crusties. My brain felt mushy after sleeping on the couch, but I still needed to know details about the dance. “So...” I began, hoping someone was going to just put me out of my misery.
“He wasn’t there,” Kaylee said.
“Who?” Celia asked, then nodded knowingly when she clued in that we were talking about Brady. “Oh right.”
“At least, I didn’t see him. Although I might have been otherwise occupied for some of the night.”
Emmie snorted. “Right. Some of the night. More like you and that delicious duke of yours were steaming up the corner of the Westwood gym until one of the teachers had to pry the two of you apart.”
“Future duke,” Kaylee said as she blushed, not bothering to deny it.
“But I didn’t see the horse coach, either,” Emmie said. “And I wasn’t otherwise occupied.”
“Thanks,” I said.
“What did Jenks say?” Celia asked.
Kaylee shrugged. “He asked where you were tonight.”
Celia screwed up her face. “What did you tell him?”
“That you didn’t feel like going to the dance. Why?” She asked, wide-eyed, “Was I supposed to say something else?”
“No,” Celia sighed. “I guess not.”
Kaylee cursed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know...”
Celia got up and hugged her roommate. “It’s okay. It probably didn’t mean anything that he asked anyway. I’m going to head down to bed. I’ll see you later, k?”
Kaylee nodded. “I’ll be down in a bit,” she said and then watched as Celia left the lounge by herself.
“So I guess I messed that up,” she said once Celia was gone. “I thought she was into the chef guy?”
Emmie shook her head. “You didn’t mess anything up. She thought Jenks wasn’t into her. I think she is into the chef, too, but is convinced he doesn’t like her.”
“I bet they both like her,” Chelly said drawing our attention to her. “But she’s so quiet all the time, they probably think she doesn’t like them.”
“That’s a good point,” Kaylee said. “She can come off as a bit standoffish sometimes.”
Emmie nodded. “She can. I remember when I first met her, I thought she was a total celebuspawn bitch.”
I thought back to that first day at Rosewood when I’d walked into the dorm room I thought I was supposed to share with Celia and I’d been terrified of her at first. “She can be a little...intimidating,” I said.
The girls nodded. “We need to help her get a guy,” Chelly said.
“First things first,” Emmie said. “We need to help her not get kicked out of here.”
Kaylee’s eyes lit up as she looked from Emmie to me. “Oh yeah? Did she talk to you?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Earlier. We’re going to help her.” I didn’t want to let on about our little project just yet. Not until we actually had something to show for it.
“I’ve tried. A lot,” Kaylee said with a sigh. “She just gets mad.”
“It might be different now,” Emmie said. “She knows she shouldn’t take her frustration out on you. We need to find her a tutor that isn’t one of us.”
“Good plan,” Kaylee said. “I just hope she’ll go for it.”
“She will,” I said confidently. She knew she needed the help and now she had extra incentive.
“Okay,” Chelly said. “So we’ll get that sorted. What about you?”
It wasn’t until she said my name that I realized she was talking to me.
“Huh?”
She rolled her eyes. “You. What about you?”
“My grades are fine,” I said. “I’m just about caught up after being away at Christmas, but I don’t need a tutor.”
Chelly exhaled loudly. “I meant a guy. Do we need to help you get a guy?”
“Oh...um, no. But thanks.”
“You sure?”
I nodded, thinking about Brady and how no one could compare to him in my mind. I mean, Tristan, as hot as he had been, and Dave, as nice and amazing looking as he was, neither of them could measure up to Brady. I knew it was unhealthy and definitely something I was going to have to get over. Someday I was going to have to find another guy. But that day wasn’t here yet.
“I’m sure,” I said, never more sure of anything in my life.
“Still hopeful?” Emmie asked.
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “Just not ready.”
Though of course I was lying to my friend. As long as we were both still breathing, there was always hope.