“You were right,” he says. “Those are the perfect shoes for the dress. You ready to go?’

“Not really,” I say. “I want to go, but I kind of wish we could just stay here.”

He kisses me and says, “We’ll leave early.”

“Deal.”




We have fun dancing with our friends.

Sneaking into the bathroom for sips of whiskey.

Mostly, I have fun being close to Aiden.

Having him whisper to me how it drives him nuts when I grind on him. The husky, desire-filled sound in his voice.

The way he smells.

The way he looks.

The way my dress floats around me like a dream when he twirls me.

Around us, other people are dancing, but it feels like the room, the dance floor, the whole night, was made just for us.


When we take a break, I decide to give Riley his final present.

He picks me up and hugs me when he opens a high definition video camera. The kind he could actually shoot a real movie with.

“You’re my new best friend,” he says.

“I’ve always been your best friend,” I tease.

“Naw, it was Dallas, but between him defiling my rug and your gifts, you win.”

I hug him back. “Be nice. And, for the record, I’m going to miss you.”

“We’ll only be apart for about a week. Besides, I’m not up for being nice. Tonight is all about being naughty. Did you find out who your Santa is?”

“No, I thought it was you. And I haven’t kept track of who has revealed theirs already.”

“I think some people are waiting until later. Bryce said he’s having a party in their hotel room. Doesn’t he want to be alone with Katie?”

“I think they’ve been alone about every night this week.”

Riley laughs. “I’m not going to party. Are you?”

“No. Did Aiden tell you about our suite?”

“Yes, we’re staying at the hotel, too. Thought we’d meet up for lunch before we leave, so we could talk more about this video for Damian.”

“That sounds perfect.”


There’s a break in the dancing as the house Sweethearts are announced.

Hawthorne is the last to go.

Aiden whispers, “I think it’s going to be you.”

Jake, who is now onstage, announces my name, and calls me up.

I receive a beautiful bouquet of flowers and a little tiara that says Sweetheart.


The music starts back up again.

I’m so ready to leave now. To get to our room.

It’s been a perfectly scripted night.

Lots of slow dancing.

A gorgeous dress that swirls around my body like a snowflake.

The date of my dreams.

Everything is perfect.

Even though my life is so far from it.

I’m tempted not to stay for the Social Committee presentation. Whitney’s doing it all. No one would miss me.

Aiden pulls me into his arms as a slow song plays.

I’m seriously considering dragging his ass out of here this second, telling him the truth, and then making mad, passionate, amazing love all night long. 

And although that’s how I scripted it, I will admit, I’m still debating about doing it, like, once—or maybe twice—before I tell him. So that if I was completely wrong and he hates me for lying to him, at least I’ll have experienced the Titan and won’t spend the rest of my life wondering what it would have been like between us.

His arms are wrapped tightly around my waist, and he keeps kissing the side of my face as we dance.

He says quietly, “I think we should start in front of the fireplace on that soft rug, then move to the chaise.”

“I noticed the bench at the end of the bed too,” I whisper.

“And the jetted shower, the tub. Eventually, maybe the bed too.” He lets out an adorable sexy chuckle. “I have something I need to tell you first,” he says.

“What’s that?”

He leans back and pulls a long white feather out of his jacket and holds it in front of me. There’s a little hot pink ribbon curling off of it, just like there has been on all my other gifts.

“You’re my naughty Santa?” I say in shock.

He nods.

“Seriously? I thought for sure it was Riley.” Then I grin at him. “The stuff you got me. Um, did it have a purpose?”

“What do you think?”

“I think you’re tricky is what I think. You wrote an M on your list. I thought you had Maggie.”

“You looked at my list? You’re a bad girl. And, just for the record, I stole all your gifts out of your car. They’re at our room waiting for us.”

“I think maybe we should get the hell out of here now.”

He whispers, “That’s why I fucking love you, Keatyn Monroe.”

“I fu—” I start to say, but Whitney grabs my elbow, pulling me away from Aiden.

“Hey, you ready to go onstage?” she says with a big smile. “End the night and officially kick off our winter break?”

“Um, we were just thinking about leaving.”

“No way. Not before this. Plus, I decided I want you and Peyton up there with me.”

Aiden gives me a smoldering look and puts the feather back inside his jacket. “Go ahead,” he says. “Then we’ll leave.”

“Should I go round up the Social Committee?”

“No. I want just you two,” she says, grabbing Peyton from where she’s dancing with Brad.

We hold hands and make our way up to the stage.

“Attention, everyone,” she says after taking a microphone off the podium and tapping on it. “I have some exciting news to share. And I’m so happy that my two best friends are here on stage with me.”

I smile at her, knowing that her surprise will be the announcement of her college of choice. She’s gotten all her acceptance letters back and has been playing coy about where she’s going. Even though I know it will be Yale with Shark.

Really, I’m surprised I’m even standing up here.

That she would consider me a good friend after our rocky start.

But coming to Eastbrooke allowed me to find myself.

To do the things I wished I had done at my old school.

To use my conscience and do what’s right, regardless of what’s popular.

To stand up for myself.

And I think I’ve had a good effect on Peyton and Whitney too. They seem to be on even ground, and, since Whitney started dating Shark, she hasn’t acted like the bitchy Alpha she once was.

I think he’s good for her.

She sets her laptop on the podium.

After her little speech, we’re going to show the video Riley made for the Social Committee highlighting our year so far. The Welcome Back carnival and dance. The Homecoming festivities. The Greek and French weekends.

She starts with, “I’d just like to say a few words from the Social Committee and then I have something fun planned for you.”

She goes on to thank the Social Committee members, the supporting clubs . . .

I tune out her voice, because I know her speech by heart.

She made us listen to it over and over.

Instead, I’m staring at Aiden.

Okay, really, I’m staring at his fly.

Imagining.

Anticipating.

“Before the presentation starts . . .”

My ears perk up as Whitney deviates from the script.

“I hate to have to do this, but something has come to my attention, and I feel compelled to share it with you, as is my obligation, per the Eastbrooke code of conduct.”

She uses the remote to make the screen behind us roll down from the ceiling.

Now she has my full attention, because this suddenly feels a lot like the day at lunch when she sent the texts to all of Chelsea’s friends.

Only it’s a lot more public.

The dean and most of the faculty is here.

A few of the parents.

Is she going to do something else to Chelsea?

Whitney flips open her laptop and Peyton, who is still holding my hand, digs her fingernails into me.

I glance at her and see that her face has gone completely white.

I follow her eyes toward the podium.

Ohmigawd.

Ohmigawd.

Ohmigawd.

No.

I can’t believe this is happening.

I look at the pictures Whitney is getting ready to flash across the screen.

No.

Not now.

Not tonight.

Not here in front of everyone.

My heart sinks, and I get a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I remember what she said to me that day at the lunch table.

How Peyton surprised her.

Peyton lets out a little whimper as the screen finishes unrolling.

Whitney was only nice to us because she was planning to destroy Peyton the way Vanessa destroyed Mandy.

Peyton is nothing like Mandy. She didn’t do anything mean and calculating. She was hurt and needed comfort when she turned to him.

I look out into the crowd and see the boys’ soccer coach and remember how Whitney specifically asked him and his wife, who is now five months pregnant, to chaperone.

She wants to destroy them both.

Right here, in front of everyone.

I can’t let it happen.

I can’t let intimate sexual photos of an underage Peyton be flashed across a screen in front of the whole school.

Not to mention what it would do to Coach Kline’s life and his wife’s.

Just as Whitney is ready to start the slideshow, I move quickly, dropping Peyton’s hand and grabbing the remote out of Whitney’s.

And it’s at that moment that I know what I have to do.

Even though I shouldn’t.

Even though it will ruin everything for me.

I have to do this for my friend.

I turn to a stunned Peyton. “Why don’t you take Whitney’s computer and put it somewhere safe? Photos aren’t necessary. I’ll tell everyone the truth.”