The Keatyn Chronicles: Adore Me (11 page)

“He didn’t tell me.”

“I know. He doesn’t like to talk about it either. Alright, so what’s your sign?”

“I’m a Leo.”
 

“L-e-o,” she says as she types. “And he’s a Sag-it-tar-ius.”

“He is?” I say in shock. I seriously never would have guessed that. And I know every single Sagittarius quality by heart, because I’ve studied B’s horoscope more than I have my own.

“Oh, wow. Listen to this! When you get together the result is usually fireworks. You are both dynamic and like to enjoy life to the fullest. As a couple, you are lots of fun to be around. And you encourage each other. And even though the Sagittarius’ philosophical ways can compete with Leo’s love of all things material and bigger than life, they can still get along. They admire and respect each other and together they radiate energy.”

“That’s okay, you don’t have to keep reading,” I say. “I get it. We’re a good match.”

“But there’s so much more,” she says excitedly. “It says the Sagittarius’ sign is an archer, meaning he goes slowly and likes to take his time surveying his target. Oh, and he’s a flirt. It says you might be bothered by that though because you like to be admired. It also says it will be a relationship full of passion and heat. So you’re a good match horoscopically.”

“Is that a word?”

“Ha. I have no idea. But you know what I mean. It also says here that Leo’s sometimes pout to get their way. Do you do that?”

“Of course not,” I say, shaking my head.
 

“She’s lying,” Damian says, suddenly standing in front of me. “What are you two doing?”

“Nothing!” Peyton says, her eyes big as she slams the laptop shut. “Just girl talk.”

“Did you girls realize it’s 2:30 already and almost time for Thanksgiving dinner?”

“Uh, no,” Peyton says. “What time is dinner?”

“It’s at three. And we can’t be late.”

“Oh, I better go get ready. What are you wearing, Keatyn?”

I grab her arm. “Come with me. I have the perfect dress for you to wear.”

“Meet us in the great room, boys,” I say with a wave to Damian and Aiden.
 

I pretend to be just taking her up to get a dress, but internally I am freaking out.

I assumed because B and I were so perfectly matched it meant he was my destiny. I mean, we fell in love at first sight,
and
we were perfectly cosmically matched. We were made for each other.

But so is Aiden?

I drag Peyton up to my room trying to focus on clothing.

I take her into my closet and pull out the gorgeous red slip dress I bought back when my goal was to seduce Aiden. “Here, wear this.”

I hand her a strapless bra and the dress.
 

When she puts it on, she goes, “Wow. Just the way this dress glides over my skin feels sexy.”

“You look amazing, but the bra looks bad. You may have to take it off.”

“I can’t go braless.”

“Just try it.” She undoes the bra and pulls it out from underneath the dress. “Now, look.”

“I feel so sexy. Like, I’ve never really wanted to be sexy before. More like I just wanted to look hot, you know?”

“Yeah, I know. Did you bring some strappy sandals?”

“I have a pair of silver heels.”

“Perfect, but just carry them. Set them on the floor next to you. You’ll totally look casual but, yet, amazing.”

“Okay, I’m going to go put on a little makeup. I’ll meet you in the great room.”

She stops, gets tears in her eyes, and looks at me. Then she rushes back to me and gives me a tight hug. “Thank you for bringing me here and for the dress. I’ve never been so happy in my life.”

“Just have fun tonight. He’s taking you somewhere special.”

“That’s what he said, but he won’t tell me where. Seriously, I feel like I’ve walked into a fairytale. Hell, I’m even getting dressed in a flipping turret.”

“Go finish getting ready, so you’ll look perfect,” I say, escorting her to the door.

Once I close it, I sit on my bed and stare at the computer she left behind.
 

Yes. I’m a glutton for punishment.
 

But I can’t stop myself.
 

I open it and type in our match on a different website hoping to get a different result.
 

And I do.
 

But this one is worse.
 

As a lover, the Sagittarius man likes to explore his lover’s mind, body, and soul.
 

I shut the computer and focus on getting ready.
 

I quickly shower off then throw on a soft crepe halter dress with an ombre wash that variegates from a pale pink at the neck to a deep orange at the hem. I pair it with white studded double strapped platform wedges.

My mind suddenly flashes to Aiden slowly taking this dress off me.
 

I close my eyes and indulge my mind for a few seconds before focusing on looking amazing.
 

I braided my hair while it was wet and let it dry in the sun, so I unbraid it, gently run my fingers through the soft waves and then add some balm to make it shine.
 

I stand back and study myself in the mirror. My face is tan and glowing, so I decide to skip foundation and blush and just add some sparkly pink eye shadow, a thin swoop of black liner, a bunch of mascara, and a peachy lipgloss.
 

I check the time and, seeing that I have a few minutes to spare, decide to check my phone.
 

There are texts from all of the Johnson boys, Maggie & Logan, Annie, and Katie, all wishing me a Happy Thanksgiving. But it’s Dallas’ text that cracks me up.
 

Dallas:
 
Would it be in bad taste if I offered to share my wishbone with the governor’s hot 16-year-old daughter?

Me:
 
You can always make me laugh. I love that about you. Happy Thanksgiving. Let me know if she decides to, uh, make a wish.

It’s noon in Vancouver, so I decide to call my family. I remember last Thanksgiving. The girls running around in little pilgrim headbands. Gracie wanting Tommy to buy her a pet turkey.

The phone is answered with, “Bonjour.”

“Well, bonjour to you. Is this Avery?”

“Kiki?!”

“Hi, sweetie. I just called to tell you happy Thanksgiving. Are you going to eat lots of turkey and stuffing today?”

She lets out a big sigh. “We were supposed to.”

“What happened?”

“Bad Kiki jumped up on the kitchen island and ate the turkey while we were setting the table.”

“Oh, no! I bet Daddy was mad.”

“He said merde. That’s a bad word.”

“Yes, it is. Why are you speaking French today?”

“I’m practicing. We’re moving to France!”

I let out a huge sigh of relief, knowing that Mom would never tell the girls unless it was a sure thing.

“That’s amazing! You’ll love it there.”

“Mommy says we’ll get to go to the store, and to the beach, and to the park there! We don’t get to here.”

“That will be so much fun. Can I talk to your sisters?”

“Sure! I’ll go get them.”

I hear her running through the house, her little bare feet padding across the hardwood floors. I swear, this time next year, I’ll be with them. No matter what.
 

I hear a chorus of, “Kiki!!” and “Happy Turkey Day, Kiki!”

Then, “Gracie, don’t grab the phone out of my hands! It’s rude!”

Then Gracie’s sweet little voice, “I miss my Good Kiki.”

“I miss you too, Gracie. I heard the puppy was naughty and ate your turkey.”

Gracie laughs. “Daddy was chasing after Bad Kiki and she had bones in her mouth. I laugh and laugh at Daddy and Kiki.”

“It bet it was funny. How’s Mommy?”

“She’s sick.”

“Sick?”

“Yes, she in bed wiff the flu.”

“Can I talk to her?”

“She sleeping. Daddy say,
Girls, be quiet.
But Daddy yelled at Kiki.”

“Where’s Kiki now?”

“Under Gracie’s bed. She know it safe cuz Gracie love her Bad Kiki. Daddy say Kiki might not go to France and Gracie cry and tell Daddy, Bad Kiki no go, Gracie no go.”

I can’t help but laugh. I so wish I was there, because even though the house is always filled with chaos, it’s like the perfect chaos. I hope Inga was right. I pray I live a long life and have a houseful of my own kids someday.

“Keatyn?” a deep voice asks.

“Hey, Tommy. Happy Thanksgiving. The girls said they’re moving to France.”
 

“Happy Thanksgiving to you too, baby. Tell me you’re with some friends and not all alone.”

“I’m with some friends, Tommy.”

He lets out a sigh. “Good. One less thing to worry about.”

“Is Mom okay?”

“Oh, yeah, just the flu. Everyone on set has been sick.”

“Okay, good. I heard the dog ate the turkey.”

“Damn dog. She’s lucky she’s so cute and Gracie loves her so much.”
 

“I gotta go eat dinner, but tell Mom I love and miss her. And tell her next year things will be different.”

“I hope you’re right,” he says, and then we say goodbye.
 

I don’t know what’s wrong with me. It’s like I have pre-traumatic death syndrome or something. Every time I think of my future, I picture me dead.
 

Which makes me feel guilty, because I know Cooper’s Thanksgiving has to be rougher than mine.

Me: I was thinking of you today. I know it's gotta be tough.
 

Cooper:
 
I was thinking of you today too.
 

Me:
 
Don’t worry about me.

Cooper:
 
Garrett says you’re not going back to school.

Me:
 
I was going to discuss my plan with you after the holiday.

Cooper:
 
Tell me now.
 

Me:
 
Um, it’s still in the planning stages, that’s why I want to talk to you.
 

Cooper:
 
Yet it sounds like you’ve made up your mind.

Me:
 
I have about school. I just haven’t decided for sure where I’m going to live.
 

Cooper:
 
Don’t take off on your own.

Me:
 
I wasn’t planning to. I was going to ask you to come with me.

Cooper:
 
See, you’re smarter than Garrett thinks.
 

Me:
 
He thinks I’m going to do something stupid.

Cooper:
 
Are you?

Me:
 
I considered walking into Vincent’s office and telling him I want to audition for his movie.
 

Cooper:
 
Tell me you scrapped that plan.

Me:
 
Not quite yet. I wanted to get your thoughts. He’s like a bully, Cooper. Maybe I just need to stand up to him.

Cooper:
 
There is a big difference between a bully and a sociopath. Do some research.
 

Me:
 
Does that mean if I don’t go back to school, you’ll still help me?

Cooper:
 
Of course.

Me:
 
That makes me cry, Cooper. Thank you. I just want to be proactive instead of sitting around waiting for him to find me.

Cooper:
 
Go eat some turkey. I heard your dinner smells amazing.
 

Me:
 
Have you been keeping tabs on me?

Cooper:
 
Absolutely.
 

Love song about her lips.

3:15pm

Damian and I are the first ones in the great room.
 

“This is crazy,” Damian says, pacing in front of me, holding a glass of wine. “I'm insanely crazy about her. I'm currently writing the world’s longest love song about her lips. She doesn’t have a boyfriend or anything does she?”

“I don't think she'd be kissing you if she did.”

“Trust me. That doesn’t stop a lot of girls.”

I touch his forearm and get him to look at me. “Damian, she felt it too.”

His eyes widen in shock.
 

“Seriously? Do you think that really happens?” He sets his wineglass down without taking a sip and starts pacing again. “Of course, it happens. How many times have we heard the story of Ab—” He stops in the middle of his sentence, looking like a deer caught in the headlights, when Aiden walks in the room. “Um, the story of Aberly and, uh, Fritz.”

“Who's Aberly and Fritz?” Aiden asks.