Part 9 (2/2)

”Then you're forgiven.” She lifted her pinky and touched it to the camera on her computer. For a second, her quadrant was filled with an oversize pink finger.

”What are you you going to do?” Shakespeare asked. going to do?” Shakespeare asked.

Kristen's happy bubble popped as her thoughts were forced back to Dune. She had no idea what she was going to do. No idea how to live with this sadness for the rest of the summer. No idea how to convince him to give her a second chance.

”Knock, knock,” a boy's voice said from her bedroom doorway. ”Can I come in?”

She was about to find out.

THE PINEWOOD.

KRISTEN'S ROOM Thursday, July 23 11:55 A.M.

”What are you doing here?” Kristen quickly closed her MacBook, pulled the Cleopatra wig off her head, and jammed it under her green and blue duvet. Her sweat-drenched hair had dried into what probably looked like Donald Trump in a windstorm. And she was wearing the same Greek G.o.ddess dress he'd seen her in last night. But she would never compromise the Witty Committee for love again, not even when her looks were at stake. So she grabbed her mint green satin VS robe off the floor and casually slipped it on to avoid questions.

”I came to say goodbye.” Dune hooked his thumbs under the straps of his red Gravis backpack.

Kristen's stomach pitched. Hope was gone.

”I thought you already said goodbye at the country club,” she said coolly. Inside her mind, a soccer stadiumsize crowd jumped out of their seats and cheered for her quick retort and iron resolve.

Dune lowered his black fedora, then stuffed his hands in the pockets of his khaki cargo shorts. A tattered white beater showed off his defined, tanned shoulders, which happened to be slumped forward in shame. ”Yeah, about that . . .”

”Whatevs.” Kristen twirled her finger around her locket, channeling Ma.s.sie and her strength. ”So, where are you going?”

Despite the somber moment, he couldn't help smiling. ”Tavarua. It's an island in Fiji. Totally exclusive, with one of the best breaks in the world.”

”Is this because of last night last night?”

Dune chuckled. He dropped his bag on the floor and hurried over. Unsure of what to do when a CLAM got that close to her and her bed, Kristen slid onto her blue s.h.a.g area rug, her back resting against a green and white sham. He immediately sat down beside her, smelling like coconuts and suns.h.i.+ne.

”Nah. Earlier this summer I booked a commercial for Billabong.” He beamed. ”We shoot on the island for a week, and then Dad, Ripple, and I are going to camp on the beach and surf until my tour starts.”

”Good luck.” Kristen stood.

”Wait.” He pulled her back down.

The warmth of his hand melted the ice behind her eyes. Tears were imminent and only a matter of time. Kristen glanced toward her window as if something life altering was about to happen beyond the pane.

”I thought maybe you could tell me how you did the whole Jell-O thing. It'll go over huge with the guys on tour.”

She pulled her hand away. ”That's why you came?” why you came?”

Dune blinked several times, as if his lashes were slapping his face for saying something so stupid.

And then he shook his head no.

”Then why are you here?” Kristen's voice shook. She wasn't sure if she was offended, heartbroken, or angry. All she knew was that Dune looked like he was gearing up to say something worth e-mailing to her friends, and she could hardly wait a second longer. ”Tell me!”

He looked up, his eyes a darker shade of brown than she remembered. ”I came to tell you I'm sorry I left you last night. And that I'm sorry I'm leaving you this summer. And that I'm sorry I didn't have a chance to get to know you better.”

David Beckham jumped onto Dune's lap and purred for both of them.

Kristen ran a hand through her matted hair and smiled in a way that told him all was forgiven. ”What do you want to know?”

”I want to know who you are are.” He s.h.i.+fted to face her.

Kristen giggled at his question. It sounded like a stolen line from one of those corny Lifetime movies her mother watched. But his expression remained fixed and she knew he meant it.

And that was one of the many things she ah-dored about him.

”I'm a lot of things, I guess.” She tied the green satin tie on her robe in mini knots while she contemplated.

With the Pretty Committee she was: A) Popular times ten.B) Stylish.C) Sn.o.bby.D) Smarter then the rest of them, but not as smart as she really was.E) A soccer star.F) Waxed.G) Fake-rich.H) A beta.I) Insecure.F) Loyal.H) All of the above.[image]

With the Witty Committee she was: A) An alpha.B) Intellectually gifted.C) An LBR lover.D) CC (Closet Cleopatra).E) Loyal.F) Proud.G) Confident.H) All of the above.[image]

With her mother she was: A) Studious.B) Obedient.C) Modest.D) Frumpy.E) Middle cla.s.s.F) Proud.G) Independent.H) A future president.I) Hairy-legged.J) All of the above.[image]

The truth was, Kristen Gregory was so many things, she had no idea how to answer his question.

”I dunno,” was all she could manage.

Dune lifted his arms and reached behind his head. ”Why don't you think about it while I'm gone.” He unhooked his leather-tied shark tooth necklace, leaned forward, and fastened it around her neck.

”What are you doing?” she asked, praying her question wouldn't change his mind. ”Isn't this important to you?”

”It is.” He grinned. ”That's why you better be here when I get back in October.”

”October?” Kristen gasped. Kristen gasped.

”Everything okay in here?” Marsha poked her head inside the open doorway. Kristen quickly s.h.i.+mmied away from Dune.

”Yeah, why?” Her cheeks burned.

”I thought I heard you calling for me,” Marsha said convincingly, even though they all knew she was lying.

<script>